As Bogdan clenched the weakening body of Svarli, his mind desperately raced against the inevitable. Every twitch, every last movements of the dog was a ladder from the abyss. But the truth was inconvenient, Svarli's body, no, a bloody corpse, ceased moving within minutes. It was indeed a cruel destiny, and in Bogdan's mind, he knew it the moment Svarli's crumbling shape filled his eyes. Perhaps it was why he did nothing to save the dog's life.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Bogdan caught a familiar figure descending the stairs. Within the the short seconds before the person vanished from his sights, memories of Bogdan's younger days returned. The shape was a familiar one, an old companion of his youth. Bogdan heard a scream not far from the stairs, it was indeed the familiar voice, his “cousin” Oskar. 

The sight of Oskar briefly took Bogdan back to the reality, his cousin was leaving for something, something he probably needed to know about. Taking a deep breath, Bogdan set Svarli's body down, mourning would come later. “Oskar!” He tried to call out, however, weeping left his throat weak and his words were unheard by the people. Bogdan cleared his throat and supported himself up with his still shaking legs. He tried to follow Oskar but quickly lost sight, instead, he found himself in the area where Oskar was seconds ago.

It was Stanislav's body on the ground, Bogdan's “uncle” and trade mentor. By some horrid spirits, his loss just increased twofold in this night. It started with his companion and now his mentor. Bogdan leaned down to Stanislav body, where blood pool and deep lacerations were surefire indicators of a painful death, a death undeserved by a humble man such as Stanislav. Bogdan's hands went down to pickup the body, but his shaking and Stanislav's large size made his efforts futile. He was overwhelmed once again, and as he stumbled back out, Bogdan found himself beside Svarli's cold corpse.

“Bogdan,” Chiudka's approach was not unnoticed, despite the woman's smaller height, she seemed larger than herself at that moment. “Help me move the injured closer to the fire -- take the dead to the side. Move the tables." 

Who was she to order him around? They were by no means strangers, as nearly everyone in the village knew each other by name. In the past, he even traded goods for her. But this, this disrespect of his mourning, was unacceptable. Chiudka wouldn't know what he lost, and the mere tone of her voice made Bogdan's blood boil. His face sneered, his right hand balled into a fist and vulgar words came close to his lips...

“Chiudka,” Adrian was now pleading for help, moving frantically for attention. It wasn't clear whether Adrian was injured or not, however; Anton and Viktor stood with relative ease. “Grigory is hurt, he'll bleed to death.”

Grigory was definitely injured, and if his tattered clothing didn't betray any signs, his blood trail did. Chiudka was right about one thing, and that was helping the wounded. He would confront her in the future, if she dares to disrespect him further. For now, Grigory's fate depended on him. 

“Grigory, look at me” Bogdan rushed to the man's side. He quickly examined Grigory's body, it was a painful sight of cuts and scrapes. Some of them even penetrated his flesh, quite possibly eating into his bones. From these pores, blood still let out in a quickened pace. “Look at me, my friend.” Bogdan assured. “I will try stop the bleeding; stay with me.”

On a table not far from Bogdan sat several table cloths, most were dirtied. Bogdan rummaged through the pile, and luckily, found a large piece of fresh table linen. Without hesitation, he tore it into smaller squares, enough to cover most of Grigory's major wounds. It was not a perfect solution, but in the immediate circumstance, it will have to do.

“Adrian!” Bogdan shouted as he bandaged Grigory. “I think I've stopped most of Grigory's bleeding.” As he stood and came beside Adrian, he noticed Adrian's wounds as well. “Listen, I need you to care for Grigory for a few moments. I will get help, someone's got to be out there, old Pavel, Petya, Vasily, maybe they could help us.”