There are so, so many non-survivors. There are still cold little bodies of children, and it lights a fire under Liushna's breastbone, makes her want to fire into the mobs, but she doesn't actually have enough arrows for that to accomplish anything and also these people might be being mind-controlled in which case she would be killing innocents. 

(She doesn't want to look at the little bodies, but she does; she can't help checking if any of them is that sweet little orc boy who had been impressed with her bow in the cafe. 

None of them is. She's in the wrong part of the city for that.)

There is a man with a knife menacing a group of five children. 

He isn't part of a mob; there's a mob nearby, and he may have broken off from it, but right now the rest of the mob isn't menacing the children, just him. 

If he's mind-controlled then one innocent adult is a more acceptable loss than five innocent children.

She shoots at him. She's not actually an amazing archer, for one of her people; the first shot goes wide. But not so wide that he doesn't notice he's being shot at, which is good, because his head whips around to gawp at her instead of continuing to pay attention to the children. The little ones are smart enough to take the opportunity to make a break for it--in the direction of the mob that Liushna can see and they can't. Fuck. 

Her second shot is luckier and puts him down. She doesn't spare the time to check if he's still alive. She dives towards the children, braking and allowing herself to flutter to the ground in front of them, to cut them off. 

"There are more men with weapons, this way," she says. She can't see the mob from this vantage point but she thinks it's getting louder. 

...One of the children is a tiefling. She's heard--bad things, about tieflings, at the Convention; she doesn't take any of it seriously, of course, but it means this child might be in the most danger out of them. 

She doesn't hesitate. She snatches him up and takes to the sky again. There's that building--yes, there. It's stone, it should be fine even if someone tries to burn it. She deposits the tiefling child there and goes back for the next one. The toddler, because he can't really escape anywhere on his own and his ?sister? will have an easier time escaping from things if she doesn't have to carry him. 

By the time there is only one child left the mob has more or less reached her. 

On the one hand, they don't seem to be paying the little girl any mind, so they aren't going to lynch her probably. 

On the other hand, they don't seem to be paying the little girl any mind, so there's nothing to stop them from trampling her. 

The mob has spotted, and is paying attention to, Liushna. She can hear the words "strix" and "monster" being shouted, but she doesn't care. In the convention hall, those words could hurt because she was paying attention to them, because they existed on the same level as the work she was trying to do. But if someone is actively trying to kill her, whether they're ruder than necessary about it is...so far from consequential it slips beneath notice. 

A lucky stone hits her in the wing, of the more than twenty thrown, as she dives for the last child. If she slows down to land safely, then--

She hits the ground at an angle, tucking her wings in to roll. She snatches up the child as she reaches her, and keeps going, her momentum not reduced enough by impact with the ground that she is unable to bowl over several members of the mob that are in her way. 

--If she can just make it to the edge, she can take off--

Nope. 

She shrieks in pain when someone grabs her wing and feathers come out in their hand. She curls up even more tightly around the child in her arms as heavily booted feet start kicking her. 

There are stones. There are clubs. Some of the people in the crowd have sharp implements. 

Gods of Good, she prays. The Itarii may have been torn from their gods a long time ago, but she's in a human city now. Iomedae, Shelyn, Erastil, Desna, gods the Good humans worship--please. I want to stay. 

She isn't begging for her life. She realizes full well that it's too late for that. 

But the Itarii love their history, and they love their ancestors, and they don't really believe in afterlives; they know Hell exists, of course, but that's not the same as understanding that devils are ex-mortals. 

In an Itarii tribe, the best thing you can possibly hope for is to linger as a ghost and continue to guide and advise your descendants. 

Please. The work I'm doing, it's too important to abandon. Please. 

But if not that, then...please don't let my tribe find out what happened to me, to take revenge on humans who weren't actually kin to the ones who did this. 

And that's the last thing she thinks for some time.