The Rider can't see Ennie's peril. He's navigating on guilt and innocence now, and for what he has or hasn't done, Lyta still wins that one over the New Orleans street rat.
The tea is rushing fast now. Murderworld is ready to claim its victim. There's one, and only one moment of fresh air in the struggle, and then the tea fills in, and there's no more air, just a gasp of sweet, choking strawberry tea.
But the emotions are flooding the area now. Raw, primal, hungry. If Murderworld has done nothing else, it has filled the Rider with a fury like few even Zarathos has ever felt.
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