The wildlands warrior nodded in silent resolve to the small woman's choice to accumulate the other survivors into their lot. There was no way the man could reasonably leave them here, lest that was their desire then whatever befell them after was not his matter but only their own, but he sincerely doubted in the depths of his fierce heart that they would be so foolish to pass up safety. There was strength in numbers, just the appearance of a larger force might scare off any smaller group of would-be assailants, but thus far fate had it that they moved with enough subtlety to go unnoticed.

Flexing his fingers ever so slightly upon the knocked arrow of his bow, Brannor's continued silent expression seemed to echo the orc-blooded warrior's sentiment; if they were coming, they were taking up arms, be it mere stones or the pillaged weapons the fellow outlander bore. The call to arms against evil was not limited to those that made up the group, no, it was a matter that everyone in Greenest should now pour their conviction into.

Uttering a low response at last, Brannor spoke; "If you are willing to evade these monsters then be just as willing to fight them. Pick up something as a weapon - any will do - and move with us."

The deep, dark verdant of his hood returned forward as he kept his attention on the world beyond, ready to unleash a deadly arrow if the enemy proved to move against them. The will to fight was there but the means were becoming increasingly fewer; the well of power within him, that which ran throughout his veins, was weaker than he had ever known it. He had made rare use of it before, but nothing so severe as the conflict that he and the orcish sort had endured. Both survived well otherwise mortal injures but there existed that point wherein there was only so much one could do, even with his natural gifts...

[@Hekazu][@Lucius Cypher][@Ryonara]