Ezio could only stare with a mortified expression as La Volpe was flung over the edge, then she looked back to Bartolomeo. It was his fault! That was all too clear. He should be able to control himself, but he's hurting his friends!

Without second thought, she took hold of the sword she had lost and held it out to defend herself. "I know you're there, amico mio! You should be able to see what you're doing! You're hurting your friends!" Though how she had said "my friend" it was with such anger that her voice had shook.

This made Bartolomeo faulter, as if she had found the key to getting to him. He made something similar to a grunt as he lowered his arm. "S'ry."

This responce made her blink in slight surprise. But she still held her sword up and ready.

"S-sooory." He repeated, as if trying to get it to come out right. Then he kneeled down over Machiavelli, roughly turning him over. From what Ezio had seen, he had turned into an actual raptor as he took off, as well as La Volpe turning into a fox. When Bartolomeo had smacked him out of the air, he had just turned back to normal along with a puff of feathers, which now laid scathered around him. Of course he still had the wings.

There was one other thing she had to worry about. La Volpe had been sent straight over the edge. And it was four stories high of a drop. She only suspected the worst as she went to the edge, hoping that she wouldn't return to find Bartolomeo eating Machiavelli. With a heavy sigh, she climbed down and came to crouch beside the crippled heap that was her friend.

La Volpe laid limply on the cobblestone, curled in on himself with his tawny, black-tipped tail draped over his legs, and his hood down to reveil dull black hair, with the occastional strans of silver which shined in the pale moonlight and lanterns. Like Machiavelli, La Volpe had turned back to his normalish state upon impact.

Then she heard a thud behind her, and turned around to see Bartolomeo standing there with a limp bird-man in his arms. It seemed that the realization that he had hurt his friends was enough to knock some sense back in his thick skulled head.

"I'll carry La Volpe back, just hold onto Machiavelli. Alright?" She waited until the beast-turned mercenary nodded. Then she gathered up the heap that was Volpe before starting back to the workshop.

She laid La Volpe down while Bartolomeo settled Machiavelli on the chair. Leonardo was out as he started to see to the two. With this, Ezio sat down at the edge of the couch as she whipped a thumb at the trail of blood that ran down the older man's chin. She found herself murmering, "Please don't die..." Over and over. Hoping that maybe he'd hear and hold onto life.

Then a groan.

Ezio looked up to see Machiavelli pull a hand up to his face as he grunted heavily. Clearly half awake. "Wha' happened?" He asked, his words slurred from a mix of haziness and pain.

Ezio sighed, "You and La Volpe were both smacked to the ground when we had to fight Bartolomeo."

Upon hearing the answer, Machiavelli was rubbing his temples with his thumb and index, his other arm hanging limply off the side of the chair. "I feel awful..."

For this, Ezio had no reply. No reassuring words. Nothing. She only kept silent as she turned her half distant gaze back down the the partly-fox thief laying beside her. She knew that the total still he had wasn't normal, he would normally be turning over and move a lot in his sleep. Her only reassurance was the almost faint pulse she could feel from his wrist. Aside from that, he was breathing extrememly shallowly.

"How bad is Volpe?"

The question pulled Ezio out of her thoughts. And she shook her head slowly. "H-he hit the ground hard. I don't know how bad of shape he's in..."

Machiavelli nodded. "And Bartolomeo?"

Ezio only pointed to mentioned beast-man who was crouching in the corner looking with dazed amber eyes as Leonardo started to see to Machiavelli's wounds. He was lapping at his shoulder with a broke bolt by his feet. She'd have to help get the rest of the bolts out.

Machiavelli didn't ask any other questions, just grunted through Leonardo cleaning his wounds. When he was finished, he sighed and forced himself to stand as he moved the chair closer the couch so he could see La Volpe. Meanwhile, Leonardo was seeing to how badly the fall had injuried the theif.

"There's a few broken ribs and a couple bruised ones." Leonardo imformed as he worked, carefully pulling clothes out of the way to see the extent. But no one could truely bare the sight of Volpe's torse, heavily bruised the the point where it had turned dark purple. Machiavelli looked away while Ezio closed her eyes, Leonardo could only sigh. Another long moment later, he pulled the tunic back down, going straight to pulling the hood out of the way. This lead to the discovering of a shallow gash on his forhead, but not much else other than a couple bumps and scratches. "The gash might be of a little consern, maybe. Aside from that, there's just a bunch of scrapes and bruises."

Ezio nodded, her hand finding Volpes as she held on, not wanting to leave his side.