Breath is sucked in as his face contorts in frustration, and a part of her, the one that has blossomed since that night she fell to her knees blinded by the darkness of the world, wants to yell at him. She does not, however, because she knows he's in pain, that there are mental scars she can't see hidden away in that locked room inside his mind, the one she'd always wanted to be trusted enough to be allowed into. Instead she keeps silent, not knowing what to say when even his lips don't part to shed his thoughts on the topic. Muriel is tired of filling the space of loneliness with empty, cheerful words. Her heart couldn't handle the lies she told herself with a smile. He was lost in thought anyways, it's not like he would care what she had to say. As if he ever had. Movement, however, did catch her attention. His muscles were tensing almost violently as he began to rise up from the ground, face set in a silent snarl. She rises on her knees to accompany him, fearing for his well-being, knowing his sightless state would only hinder him more and bring infinitely more injuries to him should he try to flee. Which was odd since Leliel was always a fighter, not a runner.

Whatever it is she says, though, it has him sinking back down like a broken puppet to the ground. Lavender eyes are sad as they gaze down at him, not knowing what to say for once. So she remains silent, and so does he, until they are enveloped in their thoughts. Muriel doesn't even know how to react. Leliel had disappeared for seasons, her heart breaking more with every fortnight that passed, and suddenly he reappeared? Broken, bleeding, and blinded? How was she supposed to feel? Finally she had learned to stand on her own, to face each day with a seriousness that she had avoided for so long in favor of acting the fool. She had finally started to forget her midnight painted love. And now here he was, plopped right into her arms, and her mind was in turmoil. She couldn't yell at him and show him how much she'd grown, how strong she'd gotten, like she'd always intended to do when imagining his return. He was hurt and broken now, in more ways than one, and suddenly Muriel was floundering.

Their somewhat awkward silence was broken by the thundering of hooves. Muriel stands, positions herself to be as close to Leliel as possible, just in case it is not help coming like she had called for. But when Onni bursts from the trees, Muriel's breath hitches almost violently, and her eyes are moist with relief and need. She needs Onni now, more than ever, and she just wants to bury her face in the kindly medic's golden tresses and cry her heart out. Hadn't their roles been reversed the last time they'd met? Perhaps it's ironic somehow.

Her name is murmured softly by the painted woman, followed by Leliel's, and the sunset girl is choked up by the simple three-syllable name she holds echoing from her best friend's mouth. Onni moves forward, eyes on Leliel, and Muriel obediently moves away to give the Shaman some room. Above anyone else, she trusts Onni, not only with her own life, but with Leliel's. Listens as Lyhty sings, crooning softly, as Onni murmurs comfortingly to the crumpled man upon the ground. Words that aren't meant for her, but spoken in a tone that makes her feel like maybe she really can make it through this ordeal.

Sunlight pours down like dancing images with no shape, and Muriel watches solemnly as the skin knits together, as the blood becomes stale and lacking a source upon his hide. No words are spoken to her, and quietly the tears fall, hiccuping softly to herself as Leliel's sightless eyes begin to drift shut. Was she supposed to keep him awake? This wasn't her area of expertise after all. So instead she remained silent and hunched apart from the two, wishing she wasn't so useless.