“No.” she murmured, trying to will her head to stop spinning. “S-all right.” She said, reassuring him. She could hear the panic in his voice and wanted to soothe it. They would be all right, unless or course there was another one of those things. 

It was a horrible thought, but she was reasonably certain there wouldn’t be. Top chain predators didn’t hang out together. They’d made enough noise that if there were another, it would have shown up by now. She held onto that thought as she sank into Alexi. It was such a relief to not have to stand of her own volition. The tree had been the only thing keeping her upright. 

“Like dragging Charles home,” she echoed and tried to picture the ink-stained scribe and his well-to-do-scoundrel of a friend stumbling home. He started to move and she felt the world lurch and shift in a most unwholesome manner. She swallowed hard. The blood or ichor that had spattered her had clearly poisoned her somehow. Was it a way the creature guaranteed nothing fought back? It didn’t matter really the why of it, only that she felt ill and disoriented.

“Don’t touch the ichor.” She cautioned though she’d felt him wiping at her cheek with his sleeve. “It acts fast. I need to wash it off.”

Cautiously she opened her eyes, a gagging noise rose in her throat but she kept her jaw tight and flicked her glance around catching some landmarks. They hadn’t gone far at all. She thought maybe she could see the light of their dying campfire in the distance. But with the world spinning she couldn’t say for certain. She lifted her hand and pointed. 

“There. Head that way.” She closed her eyes and let him move her, doing her best to walk but requiring him to bear her weight. She peeked now and again to reorient them, fighting nausea each time. Eventually the light of their campfire was an unmistakable glow in the night. 

“Take me right to the stream.” She told him. “I need to wash this shit off.”