[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220419/d955e440c95ac6f731dc5e649ad359eb.png[/img][/center][hr]As the last of the undead mutts was handled, Lilann stood back upright. Her hands stung, she clenched and unclenched her reddened fingers, and knew from experience that she was walking away from this fight lucky. Still, that didn’t stop her from being a [i]little[/i] bit ungrateful, feeling annoyed that Cerric had deigned to intervene only in defense of the shrubbery. But it was a fleeting thought. More and more she was beginning to believe his intentions, while certainly devious, were ultimately to see the party and its client to safety. He’d had no shortage of opportunities to prove otherwise, yet here they all were. Alive. 

For the moment. 

The sound of Kyreth hacking up his lungs—and then spitting out what looked like clumps of [i]tar[/i]—tore her from her speculations. She hurried over to him, immediately noticing how scorched his hands were. The flesh was practically boiled, poor boy had to be in agony.

“[color=skyblue]Don’t talk, just breathe,[/color]” she said, patting him gently on the back. It seemed she owed him again, though this time he'd saved her from more than mere hunger. “[color=skyblue]Thank you.[/color]”

Eila joined them, looking a bit scratched up herself. Good—that she was here, not that she was wounded. Kyreth made a valiant gesture to have Eila see to her first, made more idiotic by the fact that Lilann was sure he was serious. She shook her head to the other woman.

“[color=skyblue]It’s a sunburn, I’m fine. See to him, please.[/color]” She stood and picked her knife up from the dirt, electing to stay put beside Kyreth and Eila. Ceolfric and Ermes could and had handled themselves just fine. “[color=skyblue]Not finished yet![/color]” she called. “[color=skyblue]Their master’s still skulking about.[/color]”