Sama'el wasn't sure he wanted to be treated by someone who didn't know what he was doing when he had Denen, a trained and goddess-blessed healer, waiting for him back in Endrykas. He didn't want to seem rude, though. "Indeed, bleeding is proof of life." He glanced back toward Endrykas; it was difficult for a web-weaver to lose track of where the traveling tent city laid. They were connected to the weave even moreso than the average Drykas. Then he glanced down at the bodies. "Take what trophy you will. I'll leave the rest to feed the scavengers and serve as a warning if the Zith come back. We had best put some space between us and them, though." He cleaned his scimitar, slung it back into its scabbard, then took a bit of a running start to plant his foot and vault acrobatically onto Dohaina's back. They had long ago mastered such maneuvers such that neither of them felt any discomfort, and his feet found the stirrups of the yvas. |