(no subject)

*Lyra carries the sleeping Anthy into Lyra's staff room, placing her on the bed and gasping for breath. Flower petals and blood from Anthy's body are now covering Lyra's dress, which is still mostly sparkly pink under the bloodstains. Lyra hesitates and glances at Anthy before removing her dress and putting on a clean nightgown; Pantalaimon politely averts his eyes. Lyra considers Anthy's soaked gown for a moment, but reluctantly leaves it where it is, and wraps Anthy in a warm, dry blanket. She waves a hand to turn off the anbaric light, and then she and Pantalaimon settle on the bed next to, but not touching, Anthy.*

Pantalaimon *whispering*: What will we dream? What?
Lyra: I don't know, Pan.

*Lyra and Pan hold each other. It is a long time before they sleep.*