Elayra’s back stiffened. She focused on Ghent, doing her best to ignore the phantom wind that had decided to pick up once more. It toyed with a couple free strands of her debris-littered hair. A faint whisper floated to them on it, its words indecipherable. Whatever reprieve Ghent’s magic use had provided, was fading. 
	Elayra carefully timed standing with Ghent. Though Drust’s looser clothes hid them, there was no mistaking the hard musculature beneath. As she had expected, his deadweight was not as severe between the two of them. At the least, he would be movable. All the same, between the pack and Drust, a pain flared in her shoulder, reminding her of the abuse it had recently received.
	She tried to hide a grimace, but failed. Drust dipped slightly. She ground her teeth and readjusted her hold, lessening the burden on her right arm. Alas, Ghent noticed.
	[i]Why is it he always notices what he shouldn't?[/i] she thought bitterly.
	She opened her mouth to snap out, ‘No. Stop wasting daylight,’ but the irritating throb remaining in her shoulder stopped her. She looked aside to the ground with a heavy exhale through her teeth and nose.
	“Fine,” she bit grudgingly instead. It sounded as if the word itself was painful to say.
	As much as she hated it, he was right. Just the thought created a sour taste in her mouth. She carefully lowered Drust back to the forest floor. Not looking up at him, she stepped to swap places with Ghent. “But be quick about it.”