[center][h1][color=lightblue]Galahad Caradoc[/color][/h1] [/center] [hr] The Kirins were... managing. They weren't in the best shape after the Behemoth, some less than others. Galahad still had a few questions- namely where the fucking thing had come from. Blightbeasts were a common enough sighting nowadays, but such a large and powerful creature attacking by what amounted to a rather insignificant town was a concerning thought for sure. More concerning was the state of their own party. The gear had seen better days, and while Galahad had noticed the occasional sullen glances from Miina, he hadn't necessarily had the time to address them- they'd yet to find a quiet moment, and Miina seemed less than enthusiastic to talk about what was bothering her- at least to him particularly. He'd need to find time to address it, but for now... [color=lightblue]"I don't imagine we'll have a considerable amount of time to spend here."[/color] he remarked. [color=lightblue]"There's only so much we can do with material goods if we don't have the time to use it all. But we do need repairs, ammunition, supplies- healing."[/color] Galahad frowned, as he looked over the state of the party. [color=lightblue]"How much time do we wager we have to spare? We need to move as soon as possible, yet at the same time..."[/color] Galahad's wince was hidden behind the visor of his helmet. Despite being crushed underneath the Behemoth a few times, somehow cracked ribs and bone were among the least serious of their injuries. [color=lightblue]"I don't imagine the task we have at hand in Skael will fare well for us if we tackle it ill prepared.[/color]