For all of her power with manipulating the dead, Ahnasha was not much of a healer to the living. She could cast a few healing spells suitable to minor to moderate flesh wounds, but Kaleeth needed [i]far[/i] more than that at the moment. Ahnasha quickly cast what she could, but it did not stop all of the bleeding. 

Kaleeth herself was not particularly responsive. She still breathed, her eyes opened and she appeared to be looking around, but she said nothing and did not move on her own. It was all she could do just to stay awake. She could not help walk, and between her own weight and that of her armor, she was difficult to carry even for Fendros. Particularly considering the ordeal they had just been through. Still, it only took a few, difficult steps forward before Fendros would feel some of the weight being lifted off of him. Another had taken Kaleeth’s other arm over his shoulder to take half of the weight on himself. A glance over, and Fendros would see a werewolf, bloody and armored, but immediately recognizable as Lorag. 

“My legs ain’t broken, so we’re getting her there, one way or another.” Lorag growled. He seemed to be struggling in more ways than one. His armor hid any injuries, though it seemed that he struggled more against his own mind than his own body. With the battle over, any beast spirit would be more than sated on bloodshed, and their natural tendency was to rest. Even a lycan as old and experienced as Lorag had to fight against his beast to keep himself in his lycan form, but he still pressed on, step-by-step. 

Janius, as well as Sabine and her pack, had still not found one another, and the scents in the air were starting to become more mixed and hard to distinguish. The shout of Fendros’ orders might have been enough to draw them to him, but if not, they could find each other once again in their camp. Ahnasha felt she remembered the area well enough to guide them back, so she walked just ahead of them to lead the way.