Ilruvae slowly takes over for the compress as Flin lets up, his compress looking rather simple, just a thin layer of magic exerting force into the wound to prevent the blood flow from coming out. "Hey, um, Marilyn!" He called out absently "How's the door opening going?" He was strong enough to help lift the armored man, but it wasn't very easy to concentrate both on that and on keeping the compress on. If he had priorities, the first would be compress, then on lifting the wounded man.