Mars had nothing to gain by following Devi to the edge of the street. Her newly instilled fear of her had quickly evolved into fear for her. She held her breath as she watched her transform into the same white bird from the other morning. A spectacular sight at her closer distance.

While a gust of strong wind fought hard against the siren, she appeared to stabilize. Mars strained to see where she was going, with the rain in her eyes it wasn’t easy.

She stopped chasing after upon reaching the main road. Defeated, forced to accept that she couldn’t catch up to her. This thought dissipated when a second gust of wind threw Devi into the path of a large truck. The impact sent her flying, the white blur arching and landing on the other side of the street

Mars ran after her on an impulse, nearly getting hit by a car herself. She found the bundle of feathers on the wet grass easily, the white was nearly fluorescent in the dark blue night. She scooped the bird up in her hands and ran back towards the bar. A horrifying dark red color began to bleed through the feathers she was holding.

“Please don’t die, please don’t die,” she muttered to herself, hurriedly rushing inside. She ran into the restroom, locking the door behind her, grabbing an arm full of towels out of the closet, and bringing them to the sink. With warm water she began to wash the blood off the feathers, Devi twitched, and it was a bit of relief as it meant that she was alive. For now anyway.

Mars dried her off as best as she was able to, trying to find a safe place to leave her. If the siren woke up mid-concert and tried to leave again, she might end up hurting herself. Or worse, leaving.

A knock on the door startled her.

“Mars we’re on in five,” Noa mused from the other side of the door.

“Coming!” she exclaimed and settled for wrapping Devi’s wings in the towel and leaving her in the bathroom closet. “I’m so so so sorry,” she muttered apologetically, shutting the door.

Devi was breathing when Mars finally made it home in the late evening/technically morning. Mars didn’t have anywhere to put her.  She didn’t want Devi to feel trapped or like she had to stay in Mars’s apartment. She found a shoebox and improvised a bed out of it by stuffing a fleece blanket in it. Then, she set the box out on a bunch of newspapers set out on her window bench, placing a small pile of sunflower seeds beside it. 

Clearly, she knew nothing about birds. Or if sirens even followed the same diets as birds. She was in the midst of googling ‘what birds eat’ when Devi stirred in her shoebox bed.