Fighting continued around her limp body, dull orbs staring at the scene but not registering it. Dual wielding flaming swords impaled the beast. Slowly, the Mother Flame began to work, discreetly. It licked at her fatal wounds, patching, mending. Heart was gently coaxed back into beating. Each beat was slow and reluctant, long pauses between them. However, it began to pick up pace to a more normal, stable manner as her body regained its strength.

A potion filled her mouth, muscles weakly assisting its passage down her throat. Finally, a shuddering intake of breath, and the phoenix blinked, gasping, gulping hungrily at the charred scented air. Nothing smelled or tasted worse than the unprepared burning of flesh and hair. Mirannda pushed herself into a standing position, blood soaked hand over the now mostly healed wound that killed her.

She surveyed the room, eyeing the damage and noting their success. A group of necromancers gone, life extinguished while preserving the rest of the already deceased. Mixed feelings settled upon the woman about this fact as she retrieved her sword from the corpse of a beast. Looking at Taticus, Mirannda looked tired. ”You shouldn’t have wasted the potion, but… Thank you. Let’s leave this cave, I tire of the decor.” Turning on heal, the phoenix started to walk out the way they had come.