[That should be his cue to get patrolling, but he idles by Zidane's side a moment longer, looking up at the ominous sky above them.]

I can't believe we're chucking a cursed corpse up there. I wonder if we'll see it fly up like Santa's sleigh.

[The harpy flies over to them from her perch and lands, intrigued by the conversation.]

Like what?

Oh, it's just a story from home. It's not even from my country. The long and short is that a magical old man delivers presents to kids in a flying sleigh around midwinter.

[Can they have a Christmas miracle in midsummer? Making an advance towards averting the calamity would feel like nothing less than that.]