The white flames making up Rita's body die down and give way to her normal, flesh-and-bones form. She uses her wings to ease herself down to the floor, then starts walking back to the group. With wide eyes, she looks over the people she saw mortally wounded just a minute ago. Childermass, grumbling like his usual self. Yuya... did he just kiss--? Whatever. If he's okay, then good.

She ends up gravitating to where Ignatius is. "He got away," she says with a frown, but her gaze soon falls to the fae's side, where he'd been impaled. "Your wound... is it...?"

She'd like to think that whatever miraculous effect the Ringmaster's magic is having on the rest of them applies to him as well, but she'd rather check than assume. Not because she's worried or anything, but... you know, just to be sure.