“Too late, it looks like he's waking up on his own, anyway.” Shara said as she placed a hand on Balazar's forearm and attempted to lift herself, though not a few seconds later she plopped right back down onto the mushy earth beneath her with a small grunt. “This might need a splint, or some of Shuda's magic...” She mumbled, hoping that the Arkard was still alive.
Before Shara could reply to the Mord or Atlas, the Oxidal from the other ship woke up and started trying to intimidate her and Shara's eyebrows rose nearly up into her hairline. With a sudden determination, Shara pulled herself to a stand up, using Balazar's body and leaning on him slightly. She could feel blood ooze from her leg in protest, but she ignored it, for now. Shara waited for Gilbert to finish speaking before flashing him a toothy grin. “Much better, sir Mord. And, as for who the leader of this group is, I believe I'm next in command with our Commander missing in action. So I'm the bastard you're looking for, miss sleepyhead.” Shara redirected her grin down at Veela.
“I am Shara, and these are my companions. If they feel like introducing themselves, they can. To be perfectly frank, we were meant to capture you as non-lethally as possible – this definitely wasn't in our game plan. But since we're stuck down in where-ever-the-hell-this-is, I think we can call fair, fair and attempt to get out of this together, alive. We need to tend to our injuries and check our dead. Whatever bodies are found will need some sort of burial... Whether by piling fronds on top of them, or just saying a few words...” As if to make her point, she looked down at the body of the young female that she had prayed over before. Then she looked at Atlas and Balazar. “I'm hoping you two will behave. For the money, if nothing else.”
Without any further preamble, Shara unlatched her short shoulder cape and reached into her brassiere to grab her small flask of whiskey. “Bottom's up.” She tensed herself as she poured the whiskey on her wound, and felt the liquid sear her flesh as it worked it's way through the gash. She growled under her breath, and then bent down to wrap her crimson cape around the leg, tying it off tightly.
“One down, who knows how many to go. How badly are you guys hurt?” She asked in general, looking from the other Oxidal and the Mord, to Balazar and Atlas.
Aisling