La'khay's kiss left Tzirret dumbstruck and paralysed again, but not in quite in fear this time. He simply stared up at La'khay with a small, open-mouthed smile, then suddenly released all of his breath in a quick, shuddering laugh of an exhale. He seemed unsure and without words. Even if he did have something to say, he didn't really want to speak anything else to La'khay while Gallus was still around. He instead swallowed and caught his breath, looking around nervously until he found his spear. It was covered in dirt and blood, but he still picked it up and found a cloth to wipe off most of the filth.

Gallus approached the pair again with a bloody hammer in one hand and the corpse of the minotaur calf dragged along the ground behind him. It was smaller than Tzirret, so there was little doubt that they could carry it with them. "This'll be a story to tell once we get to camp again, now, won't it lad?" Gallus said to Tzirret with a laugh on his tongue. He seemed oblivious to the morbid scene he was carrying with him. "One last thing before we leave," Gallus looked to La'khay, "That Khajiit over there," he gestured with his head to the one humanoid corpse they could see, "Was that one from your clan or is the body too decayed to recognise?" Gallus raised his brow, "Oh! Tzirret, the horns."

"Ah, yes," Tzirret was giddy, but had mostly calmed from his breakdown. He pulled out a knife and walked to saw off the minotaur's embattled horns. He wished he had an axe or a proper saw so it wasn't so difficult.