[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/MMrwTnq.png[/img]
[b][color=00aeef]PAGONIA[/color][/b][/center]

[color=00aeef]"Finally."[/color]

Pagonia felt a weight lift from his shoulders as the witch made her exit. For hours now, the team of magi had been fighting, using their magic back to back, and forcing their bodies to ignore injuries. His eyes shifted from side to side, scanning the area, visually checking on everyone. For the moment, everyone seemed to be relieved, some hurt from the last fight, but no one was seriously inured. Zes was a focal point and the boy was talking with Etoile, giving his older a brother a sigh of relief. His heart slowed in pace, the adrenaline pumping through his veins eventually died down, and the pain in his shoulder and chest began to swell. He had taken some punishment during the fights to the point that he thought he was going to kick the bucket. The fear of Zes losing him was something he could put behind him for now.

[color=00aeef]"Hey Clara, you alright?"[/color]

Pagonia sheathed his sword, his left arm barely able to help hold the sheath due to the shoulder issue. The swordsman threw himself to ground, landing on his butt with a plodding sound; Pagonia was done with the day and needed a rest the size of a whale. He just wanted the day to be over with, but finding a place to rest would be a journey in of itself. At this current moment, he needed to make sure that Clara was okay to walk even if he needed to use his own shoulder to help keep her up. Sitting in this forest would be a death sentence if the witch wasn't an indication of what's to come next. Plus his own magic had been largely drained from so many techniques used, he wasn't prepared for another fight involving magical combat. For now Pagonia needed to keep a smile on his face, and show everyone that their situation would get better, even if he didn't truly feel that way. Morale was a big thing for any group of people.