Eating ? Which bloody, confused, irritated and yet apparently unable mind could think of that in this situation ? If An-Hasst was honest his own mind currently was fulfilling most of those criteria. However in spite of what most people maybe would consider a dramatically oversized heap of muscles crying out for energy to convert into destruction he didn't touch his bag. They could eat once there was less of a probability that more rogs would come. The werebear offered a ride, but that stupid priest-thief-whatever-he-was was faster, claiming that him being the lightest would make him best suited for the 'job'. Quite frankly the Skayleigh wasn't to worried about Ursaren having been able to carry him, too. At least for a brief, but comfortable while and maybe with the bear's back looking a bit more U-shaped.

At this point An-Hasst could give the impression of a lumbering zombie straight from whatever term for 'deep underground, where it's damn hot' ond wanted to apply. He had to duck in order not to have an unwelcome encounter with the rocky ceiling, but given that one part of his back felt like anything he'd drink now would leak straight out again he probably would have done so anyway. His face and hair were covered in dirt glued together by dried blood: his own, the rog captain's and also of some villagers. And while he was limping his way into the not so deep underground he was dragging the huge halberd behind him for lack of room to put the thing over his shoulder.

"Has anybody considered the possibility that this tunnel might be known to the rogs as well, if not even one of their known approach routes." He didn't mention it, but what if the passageway would be blocked ? This might look like an escaoe route very preferable to running back into the woods on first glance, but it also had potential to end in disaster.