With a low growl, Tauriel released the orc to Legolas. "Very well," she sheathed her dagger, her eyes landing towards the lake. A small part of her couldn't help but pity the company, but she did not voice these thoughts aloud. Legolas may not have understood. 

Kili looked up to his godmother, relieved that she had made it unharmed. "It isn't your fault," he promised weakly, so akin to how Saeril hadn't allowed Kili to take the blame. "If you hadn't come, I wouldn't be here." 
As pressure was applied to the area, Kili grit his teeth, but he refused to cry out. Once the worse was over, he exhaled shakily. "It looks worse than it is," he mumbled quietly, then worked to tie off the makeshift bandage.

Thorin paced, then turned back to them. “There’s an orc pack on our tail; we keep moving.”
Balin worried for Kili, but he understood Thorin's haste. “To where?”
Bilbo was troubled too, though he'd been quiet until now. “To the mountain; we’re so close.”
“A lake lies between us and that mountain." Balin shook his head. "We have no way to cross it.”
Bilbo wouldn't give up. “So then we go around.”
Dwalin cursed lowly and turned one of the barrels over with his foot. “The orcs will run us down, as sure as daylight. We have no weapons to defend ourselves.”

Thorin passed Kili and Saeril before looking to Fili. “You have two minutes.”