The small person is as good as their word; with more beings falling they leap, their movements feral and hard to track with the eye. Each impact staggers the freshly-fallen stars, hitting far harder than their body mass has any right to. The first unearthly howl, bigger, richer, deeper than anything their throat can produce, sounds when César crosses the threshold to the inn.

His rescuer won't be joining him at this time. The fight is outside, and it is until dawn.