The pink peacock moves closer to Lights. A guard, a searchlight, that sure sounds like someone that could keep them safe, even if he was, in some ways, authority. The pink peacock feels vaguely uneasy about that, but she cannot quite figure out why.

Her twin remains on the ground, back pressed flat against the wall, listening to the far-away wails.

"They might be hunting tonight," he says and terror like he never felt before in his memory fills him.