Kite looked up from his attention paid to the dead grass, having gently sank the tips of their gloves into the soil that yielded like sand. In the time they'd been holding the small scoop, it continued to desiccate, the grass crumbling to dust as Kite looked back from their exchange with Violet to their hands as the fine powder sifted through their fingers. They clapped their hands off as they stood up and back off a step, not wanting to inhale the small cloud the disturbance had briefly kicked up. [color=f6989d]"Thfflef-phelt prrefefefefff...."[/color] they tried to articulate, frustratedly trailing off with a small growl before looking around, trying to catch remnants of the unfolding actions.

Isabelle's efforts earned them the acute sensation of plunging their hands into an ice-bath upon contact with the man. Though the glow of her efforts staved off the brunt of the maleficence, it was sickeningly clear to the woman that the darkness from which the man's afflictions stemmed was something [i]made[/i] weak in spite of its oppressiveness. 

Fraying edges that dumbly sizzle and evaporate in flourishing plumes of flame; a tapestry set alight.

A hand passing through the web of a spider.

A lantern on the edge of night, needing only to be shifted an inch in order to illuminate the man's true form. 

Though what divinity Isabella's powers were claimed to originate from were effective in driving out the curse, with [i]ease[/i] it was excised, the struggle more akin to opening a letter than driving out an inherently evil affliction. The cruelty blatant with the apparent lazy amalgam of curses bundled together in haste like a snowball. What Isabella could feel behind the spells was a spool of anger and quickly plunged stakes to anchor each shallow enough only to stick.

No passion. No nuance. No design.
This was the work of punishment, not passion.

Davon took his time to silently look over his restored limbs, his toes curling as the leg properly filled the leg of his pants. Wonder and amazement ruled his expression, but not surprise, having had nothing but full faith in Isabella. The first actions tasked of his restored state were to manage himself to his knees and clasp his hands in soft prayer, Isabella's name sharing adoration in the murmured gratitude. Eyes closed and head lowered, he was indifferent to if she chose to pay him attention, as the thanks was not necessarily for her, but for what powers at play allowed her to 'perform such boundless miracles in defiance of The Old Dark'.

Jasper turned their head, slightly as they listened to Violet. [color=00a99d]"There are shapes in the forest that I do not recognize. As they are on the other side of the river, I am not immediately concerned,"[/color] They flatly said, speaking again after a long pause, after Violet had turned back to the group, implying they were continuing their conversation with Kite, "Unlikely. It may have burnt the soil down a few inches, but [i]we[/i] are safe from it, in this state." 

Somewhere out in the woods back across the bridge, the distant muffled roar of Vandal Savant rang out. Birds of all and other shapes scattered from the trees as five resounding 'thumps' concussed the air, the ground almost seeming to shake from the reverberations. 
[color=00746b]"[i]That[/i], however...may-"[/color] Jasper began, the treeline rustling once more as two tall shapes and a small handful of smaller ones emerged from the path in a jog to cross the bridge in a slight haste. The two were lanky, standing some six to seven feet tall with long muscular arms coated in a reddish-orange fur. Otherwise, they were clad in a sort of light armor and metal helmets, the details difficult to make out from the distance. One of them pointed across the bridge and a few barked words saw them and their entourage drawing weapons from their hips and backs. The four smaller ones were some 3-4ft tall with dog-like snouts from how pointed their noses seemed to be, matching their ears, their details standing out on the backdrop of water and wood by the distinct green hue of their flesh. The group must have noticed our heroes, as they picked up the pace to cross the bridge before they could be caught out in the open.
[color=00a99d]"...may drive them back our way."[/color] Jasper concluded, their tone pleasant as always even as they raised their fists once more.

From the commotion, Davon looked up from their ritual and darted back into the crumbled camp with a skip to their step after overcompensating with having a normal leg, once more. They had returned to their crossbow, quickly going about getting it ready for the new company.