Having plucked the fallen kobold from the floor just as the other free hand did the set of keys which had been left sagging upon the cave wall, Brannor returned with quarry in hand. While not a monumental kill, the huntsman was still proud of his doings, just as any would expect a predatory beast in man's clothing to be. His ironclad fist dropped the lifeless, fresh kill back into its slump and the remaining hand tossed the keys on to the ground between them all, setting the metal clattering across the floor before he shaking off his stained armor. From there his eyes surveyed the remaining pile of bodies that the half-blood, Orchid, had created given his crowded up figure next to them and parting through what was left of their gear. Likewise he shot a glance to the badly battered tiger, who in the moment quietly licked his wounds; less the old wizard he appeared to be earlier and something so familiar now.

The green warden did not spend much further thought on that, at least not now, as the wake of the hunt and kill - the calm instilled in him - sated that side of his heart. Although, admittedly, the man was not so certain he ever wanted it to be at this rate. After all they had done in the past few days and what he had been capable of doing, with more still needing to be done, perhaps the human element was not near as great as the gifted side of him. Certainly the [i]Pale Lady[/i] was stronger than the flesh, the divine after all, and that was what was needed now if they were to continue fighting the children of dragons and the beasts themselves, but surely there was a reason the paladin had a foot in both worlds; some part man, beast, and divine.

Nodding, he continued his surveying stare in the damp, dank cave and cut out the overwhelming earth-touched scent of blood that filled his lungs. From there he offered what he could of himself in an almost casual sense, noting, "I can mend some injuries, whatever you cannot bind."

Honesty and sincerity forthcoming, it was more clear what he meant under the surface. He was not a healer, not in the truest of senses, and his role was to be the claws and fangs, the blade, of nature's call. Yet at the same time he was gifted enough to stanch some of the suffering they had incurred, but only just enough. Really more than anything all the man could hope for was that they could recuperate the best they could first before needing his aid.

[hider=Effects]
Brannor will take the keys off the wall and drag the body of the kobold back with him to the rest of the party. Once there, he will offer some of his [i]Lay on Hands[/i] to patch up the rest of the remaining injuries where he can after other sources are used.[/hider]
[@Hekazu][@Ryonara][@Zverda][@Lucius Cypher][@Norschtalen]