Finir was set on one knee as the last moments of the slaughter had ended. Really, aside from their previous invulnerability, they were not that strong. Not strong compared to the strength of Nimi in her Switch Axe form. The carnage around him was disgusting. Body parts and innards seemed to slab themselves upon the surfaces of the battlefield. Intestines here, livers and gallbladders there, severed arms, hands, and that ring of detached legs caused by Tiamat.
The air permeated with only a slight scent of decay and spilled guts. It invaded and penetrated through the Dragonkin's nostrils and made him draw back, shaking his head to rid himself of this invasive perfume. He was so focused on fighting that the smell itself was unnoticed until that moment. Nimi only giggled at her master's scrunched up face as she shifted her form back to her usual tiny, cute mermaid form.
And there was still the undead child clinging onto his neck. Now that things were finally still, she decided to scale Finir's back, placing her legs between the back of his neck while holding onto his horns. From the front, her little head and passionless eyes peered from behind his mane as she leaned one way or the other to see where the azure dragon decided to go.
Moments later, there was a new individual that shot himself from a nearby rooftop. He came in the form of a young farming boy, overalls complete with those typical suspenders seen by laboring farmers back in Midgard, as well as an undershirt to guard the armpits and upper shoulders. He was a dirty individual, covered in mud, dirt, and whatever else one may encounter during a hard day's labor on the fields. Strangely enough, this humble image had a stream of silver hair and a pair of cleared orbs - as if he were blind as that other rambunctious blind fool.
"You...You all have ties to the Son of the Morning, correct?" he inquired. "Where is he?"
"It's probably best for you to introduce yourself, sir," Finir answered.
"Yeah, we're an exclusive club here, bro," Nimi chortled. "You want to know so bad, tell us your business, or get the hell off the premises. Blue Bouncer here will personally escort you elsewhere if you decide to be stupid."
Pinkie Pool's archnemesis: Oatmeal.