---

Lilann was no stranger to waking up with the urge to scream, and so it was with practiced restraint that she managed to keep from shrieking when a nightmare quite literally tore her from sleep. She said a silent thanks to nothing that no one had heard or noticed her bolt upright, and though it took several minutes for her heart to slow and many more for her breathing to steady, she did eventually shut her eyes again.

Just in time for it to be dawn. Next time she would just pray for death.

On the road once more, Lilann found herself in a daze. She tried to keep her mind busy, plucking at her lyre and forcing herself to focus enough to carry the tune—though she did not sing. Occasionally the chill would catch her the wrong way, and she’d glance urgently behind her, or out into the woods. She listened for…well, she didn’t know. Growling, perhaps, or maybe music.

Often her eyes went to Kyreth, as though he might be gone if she didn’t check on him. She had to remind herself that the shadows about his face, and clothes, were shadows and not blood, had to tell herself, almost out loud, that he was still alive. It donned on her that she’d never heard him scream before, and so she couldn't know what it sounded like, even in a dream.

In the back of her mind, a part of her was confused and repulsed by how quickly she’d begun to care for him. He was nearly twice her size, and she suspected they were about the same age, but more and more when she looked at him she saw…

The cart. Or didn’t, rather, as she walked squarely into the back so committedly it nearly knocked the hat off of her head. She felt her mask for cracks, relieved to find none, and made a mental note to threaten anyone who might have witnessed her clumsiness later. For now, there were evidently more important things to worry about.

Ceolfric and Ermes stood near the front of the wagon, talking to themselves—Ceolfric much more loudly, and not, it seemed, explicitly to the shadowy boy. Their attentions were focused upon a wounded wolf in the middle of the road, but before she could consider the pitiful thing any further, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Once again, practice saved her from an embarrassing outburst. It was only Kyreth, though he seemed rather concerned. “Be careful, something is wrong,” he said, before joining Ceolfric and Ermes. She would have followed despite his quiet urging for her to stay back, but then she saw the woman, Eila, draw her bow. Almost instinctually, Lilann pulled the knife from her pouch, ready to infuse it with aether.

She watched, confused and more than a little apprehensive, as Eila loosed a—surprisingly excellent—shot directly at the wolf.

The arrow sailed true, whistling softly before burying itself into the wolf’s hide. Nothing much seemed to change with the wolf in front of them, not even a whimper pulled out as the offending missile landed true. There was a beat of stillness in the forest, as even the sounds of birds and insects went silent…

Two wolves burst out from the sides of the road, lying in wait for the fourth to draw attention. One charged Liliann, alone at the back, with a mangled leg and an open wound on its back and exposed bones and fetid flesh alike. The other had long gash marks along its left flank and it;s skull cave in where an eye should be, the lack of depth perception the only reach its jaws snapped shut just inches right of Eila’s leg.

The one at the front pushed itself up, eyes white and rolled back, ignoring the arrow lodged firmly in its back. It lunged from Ceolfric first while behind him, the horse reared up in a panic, putting him and Ermes in dangerous range of its hooves. Esvelee let out a stream of expletives as she tried to reign the panicked beast in and hopefully keep it from crushing her so-called protectors.

Cerric, on the other hand, was almost entirely ignoring the situation at hand, instead scanning the forest around him, ice crystals hovering in the air near him.

---

Ceolfric watched with bated breath as the arrow buried itself in the wolf’s back. He doubted their assailant had crafted a new illusion involving the arrow so expertly that he couldn’t tell even while scrutinizing it, so that meant the thing before them was some variety of magical construct. Which meant it could hurt them in a very real way. Kyreth’s warning drew his interest, but the bandit found it ultimately pointless; he thought it quite obvious that they were under magical attack, though he didn’t miss that the Tainted’s perception of the situation differed wildly from his own. Something to file away for later, he supposed.

That being said, he doubted a mere illusion would cause such a stir. Was it rigged to explode? He didn’t know how strenuous it was to maintain a conjured entity, but, unless the wolf harbored a nasty surprise, that likely meant more constructs were prowling the bushes around them.

It was no surprise when the thing before them rose up to attack, nor when the rest of the pack came out to reinforce it. The others looked to be in far worse shape; their attacker had chosen the uninjured one as the decoy for a reason. If they were indeed dealing with Agitha’s beast, it had the cunning of a man. Then again, Kyreth had sensed the magic in the air immediately prior to the wolf's arrival, which suggested at least some of them were freshly reanimated. If it were the work of some fell toxin embedded in the demon's fangs, wouldn't they have already been raised and shambling about prior to the ambush ever occurring? He didn't know a thing about the demands of necromancy, but he did know how to puppet a few animals - it shouldn't have demanded such effort if the demon merely willed them into action. Not to mention the matter of the demon itself; he certainly didn't sense a Rancor nearby waiting to pounce on them, but if Cerric could snuff out his presence, then surely the necromancer could as well, mortal or otherwise.

Ceolfric readied his sword to intercept the canine’s charge and disembowel it right then and there, only to be forced to shift away by the stupid horse’s panic. He barely caught the wolf’s maw with the edge of his shield, battering it away as he ducked under a storm of flailing hooves. Oh no, he was not going to entertain interference from their own fucking pack animal. Ceolfric circled away from the wolf as he regained his footing and thrust out a hand before the next lunge, flicking his gaze away from the present threat to the horse only briefly as he snapped his fingers.

"Stay out of the way," he commanded, and the horse obliged. It ceased its thrashing immediately, returning to a calm, docile stance as if blind to the chaos around them, despite the way its lifeless, dazed eyes remained firmly affixed on the wolf, concerned only with the desire to move out of the way should the beast draw near.

"Don't suppose anyone knows how to stop these things from getting up again?" he questioned loudly to no one in particular. Short of chopping all their legs off and staking the squirming torso to the ground to stop it from worming after their ankles, he didn't exactly know how to incapacitate something that moved through magic and not blood.

---

The tension in the air was almost as palpable as the aether; Eila loosed her arrow, and everyone held their breath, watching the crippled wolf for any sign of life. The tingling in Kyreth’s fingers advanced to full-on buzzing, and he gripped his pack and knife with white knuckles, as if he could somehow squeeze the magic out of his hands.

Then, all at once, action; the crashing of foliage and a great, horrible snarling, guttural and wrong, accompanied two more wolves as they burst out of the woods shouldering the path toward the caravan.

Kyreth jumped back without thinking, taking shelter behind the wagon. While his companions were set upon, for the moment no wolf came for him; meanwhile, his fingertips buzzed a warning, magic thrumming under his skin with a primordial heat that seared him in pulses timed with the racing of his heart. In his urgency to cut off another catastrophe before it began, Kyreth grasped blindly at his belt, watching to his left and right as he untied his waterskin with trembling fingers and poured it out over his hands.

He emptied the entire thing in his haste, coating his hands and arms and soaking his tunic sleeves. The water did little to soothe the burning thrum in his fingers, and had he been thinking clearly, Kyreth would have remembered what Lord Mystralath taught him about aether and realized that wetting his hands wouldn’t stop him from producing fire. But he wasn’t thinking clearly, and he didn’t know what to do – this way, at least, if he did have a mishap, he might not set himself on fire.

His strongest instinct was to run, but doubt was quick behind it; run where? Into the woods, where more wolves were probably waiting? Down the road, where he’d only single himself out for attack?

Wait—

“Lilann!” Kyreth cried, whipping around to find Lilann just where he left her – on the edge of the group, singled out and with a snarling, rotted wolf hot on her tail.

There was no time – Kyreth was too far away and the wolf was faster than he was. So he did the first thing that came to mind: there was something in his hand (a now-empty waterskin), so he threw it in the wolf’s direction, with absolutely no plan beyond that.

The urge to smack his face in disbelief was fought back as Ceolfric killed any chance at a surprise and coordinated attack. Calling out with his boisterous mouth to the others rather than using discretion. What's more the idiot thought he could simply barter with their would be assailant for free passage. If they had planned on leaving empty handed they wouldn't have bothered to even lay a trap. Ermes couldn't even get a word in edgewise before Kyreth opened up his mouth to warn them of…something. Even he didn't know what it was that he was saying. Great I'm surrounded by idiots he thought as an arrow was loosed and shot into the dying wolf.

Everything fell silent, Ermes hoped that that was the end of it. But he knew better. They were surrounded, undead wolves coming from either side, one emerging right from where he'd caught the presence. Damn that idiot. He was talking to an undead wolf He cursed to himself, swiftly sliding out from under the horse as Ceolfric dealt with both the horse and beast at the same time. Ermes wasn't much of a shield fighter, but watching the mercenary do his work was actually impressive. Again the merc snapped his fingers, and suddenly the horse calmed down. Interesting skill to say the least, he'd no idea the bandit was capable of animal handling.

"That all depends on what these things are. For now, I have a temporary solution." Ermes called out, his voice showing the smallest hint of annoyance and enjoyment as he spoke. He held his right hand palm up with his fingers clawed as he jutted it upwards before closing it into a fist. "Restrain" His Aether pooled up beneath the wolf before him, the dirt beneath it began to get disturbed a large aged skeletal hand clawed its way from underground and wrapped itself around the wolf gripping its entire body. "I can hold it off for a bit, keep it from moving." Hopefully Kyreth could use his weird and extremely vague sense to find whoever was responsible for this. If they were constructs it'd be easy, if they were reanimated…he didn't want to think about it.

---

This was a fucking nightmare.

Lilann had seen plenty of death in her time, especially in the past few days. She was used to the way it looked, how it smelled, and how it affected the less obvious senses, like comfort and guilt. She was not, however, used to seeing it move. So when the dead wolves burst from the brush and charged them, she took a moment to check whether or not she was dreaming.

As it turned out this was not, in fact, a fucking nightmare.

Ceolfric and Ermes leapt into action, brave boys that they were. Lilann’s focus shifted quickly to the wolve rushing towards her. She clutched her whittling knife and reeled it back, flooding it with her aether—only to see the dark blur of a waterskin hurtle past her at the beast. A moment later, she registered the hazy shouting she’d heard a moment prior as Kyreth crying out her name. He must have thrown it. A brave boy in his own way.

It wouldn’t be enough she guessed, even if the wolf had been living. So, with a sharp whistle, and the somatic propulsion of the throw, she launched her knife after it. It sailed arrow-fast, guided more by will than anything—which was for the best, she was an awful shot with a bow. As it drew close she curled her fingers in and twisted her hand, shouting: “Down!” Heeding her call, the knife angled down following an intuitive marriage of her motion and her intent.

Her goal wasn’t to take its legs; the blade was small and even if she managed to slice one it would just keep coming. Instead, her aim was the back of its neck, or its back, to pierce in and press it to the ground. With any luck—and a fair bit of aether—she hoped to pin it there until Kyreth or Ceolfric or anyone, even fucking Cerric could come take the damn thing’s head off like Eila was instructing them to do.

“Back into the wagon, just at the edge, Ms. Buckman.” Cerric urged their client now that the horse was no longer an immediate threat, helping her over the edge to carefully settle amongst her red fern. “I have full faith in our stalwart protectors, but just in case, it doesn’t hurt to stay out of any potential lines of fire!” Water danced in between his fingers and out in front of him, doing lazy laps as the conflict played out around him. Despite the tension at the arrival of the wolves, Cerric had since relaxed, resuming his lounging as he shuffled to provide Esvelee a little more cover.

The first wolf, now clamped in a skeletal fist, writhed and snapped at the hand holding it. It moved a little, but wasn’t able to make it out without better leverage so instead it started gnawing and scratching at the thing holding it. Cracks began to form along one of the skeletal fingers.

The second wolf paused for just a moment to snap at the waterskin, teeth tearing into it, and immediately tossed it to the side. However, the opening was enough. It let out a growl as the blade hit just past the back of its neck and pushed, legs giving out as it snapped its teeth furiously. Black spittle flew everywhere until it finally got its feet back under it and started slowly pushing back up, the blade tearing through the skin and buying itself further into the wolf’s torso. It fixed Liliann with a vacant stare, only a few more moments before the damn wolf freed itself and lunged.

The last wolf may have missed at first but in its scramble to right itself, one of its claws glanced across Eila’s shin, leaving a thin red line of broken skin. The beast lunged again, this time at Eila’s throat. Its teeth caught on the wood of her bow instead, black frothy saliva staining the wood, but it started tearing at Eila with its claws while it chewed on the offending bow.

---

As the skeletal hand erupted from the ground, Ceolfric rose his sword to shatter it, only to thankfully pause as it wound its fingers around the wolf instead of him. Not the necromancer's work, then. Either the idiot kid was fucking with him or he really didn't understand how his magic might be misconstrued in this situation. Questionable choice of aesthetics aside, it had done its job; the wolf was entirely at his mercy for the moment. Not that he knew what to do with said opportunity; Eila's answer told him absolutely nothing.

Fortunately, she clarified before Ceolfric had the chance to start playing acupuncture with the mangy corpse, trying to find an 'aetheric circuit' in the middle of putrefying muscle and rotten sinew. The thing still squirmed a bit too much for a clean execution, but this wasn't his first beheading. He waited for the trapped wolf to lock its jaws against one of the fingers holding it before he took up his sword with both hands and roughly eyeballed the line from Goredrinker's edge to the creature's neck. In a swift overhead arc, he slammed the blade down on the wolf's neck, then ripped it free and repeated the motion, as though he were efficiently chopping wood and not hacking away at a monster's spine.

"Remember-" Whack. "Heads rarely-" Whack. "Come off clean!" Last thing he needed was for one of them to get overconfident after severing half an artery and letting a wolf back up, especially since he didn't see any of them carrying a weapon that feasibly looked like it could take off a head with any amount of ease. Quite frankly, he was still dubious that it wouldn't get back up without a head, but he supposed a wolf was significantly less dangerous without a maw to bite with anyway.

He took the opportunity to assess the situation, pleasantly surprised to see the Tainted duo had actually managed to restrain their wolf. The elf, on the other hand, was about as physically capable as he expected, which meant he'd probably have to save her sorry ass as a reward for telling him how to kill this thing. Assuming it worked, anyway.

---

Cut off the aetheric what now? Ermes was about to yell at her to speak in plain common, but Eila quickly corrected herself and restated what she said in a way that didn't sound like an academic paper he was fully incapable of reading. He examined the wolf as it snapped at his skeletal claws, seeing how thick its neck appeared to be. His sword would certainly take several swipes to even clean half of it off, and by the black dripping ooze that dribbled out of its mouth, Ermes concluded they didn't have that much time. He watched and waited for the body and head to crumble down to dust. Certain Eila would have a very sound explanation about how the aetheric circuit broke and caused it to collapse into aetheric particles that melded back into the world or something.

Ermes watched the limp body, waiting and noticing the lack of deconstruction beyond decomposition. Fuck The large skeletal hand moved, pivoting at where the elbow would be as it wound back before tossing the body as far away as it could. The hand then scooped down, grabbing the head and repeating the motion in the opposite direction. "They're not constructs! Damned things are dripping with black ichor so watch out for its bite." He called out before him as he saw Eila holding one back with a bow. Hopefully whoever the puppet master was would give up on the discarded corpse so that they'd have less threats to deal with.

Ermes quickly made his way towards Eila. He didn't think he could manage what Ceolfric had, and he feared that a lack of expediency would get her bitten and infected with whatever disease this black shit could do. So he did the next best thing that he could do. He wrapped his aether around the beast's maw just in time for it to snap shut as his Aether solidified. A bone muzzle wrapping itself around the snout and behind its head to keep it from Biting anyone. "Hey Ceolfric, care to do the honors?"

Kyreth tried to avoid fights. He wasn’t good at them. He had always been skinny and weaker than the other kids, they always had more friends than he did to back them up, and he learned pretty quickly that the momentary shame of acquiescing to whatever they wanted – usually a scrap of food or a spot to sleep – was less painful than putting up a fight. Missing a meal or sleeping on the floor were a pittance compared to nursing cuts and bruises for the next week, and he got enough of those without taking fights he didn’t need. Besides, it was always just him paying the price; there was nobody else he needed to worry about.

Not anymore.

Kyreth’s mind went blank as he watched Lilann pin the creature, though its writhing made clear it wouldn’t be held for long. Heart pounding in his ears, he struggled to undo his cloak, dropping the pin the blacksmith had given him into the dirt with shaking hands as he let the fabric slide from his shoulders. His feet moved without command, eyes never leaving the putrid creature as it struggled. It got one leg under itself, then the other, and soon, having little purchase against the soft rotting flesh of the beast, the knife plunged straight through it with all the force of Lilann’s will and into the ground. Freed of its captor, the wolf lunged toward Lilann—

—And caught Kyreth’s foot in the cheek.

Kyreth was as surprised as the beast; it was like he woke up from a dream, with no plan, no idea when he moved, and now off balance from the kick. The wolf staggered sideways, but recovered in an instant, far faster than Kyreth. It turned its pale, dead gaze to him, lunging in his direction with a snarl. Defensively, Kyreth put his hands out, stretching his cloak in front of him like a net.

The beast hit its mark, but by nothing more than Selene’s divine mercy, its teeth were caught in the strong wool, staining the green fabric black as it tried to gnaw its teeth free. But its momentum continued, tumbling them both backwards, the wolf fighting like a demon against the fabric as Kyreth struggled to wind it tighter. They rolled, the wolf tearing long gashes in the cloak with its claws as it struggled to escape, until they came to a stop, Kyreth pinned to the ground with a snarling mass of green wool and black death on top of him.

Then, all he saw was fire.

---

Damn, right, the thing was dead, what the hell did it care if she punched a hole through it? As soon as it had ripped itself free of the knife, it was at her again, and though she beckoned her weapon back with a sharp wave and another whistle, it was slow. She was slow. Briefly she tried to recall if she’d survived a wolf-mauling before. A mountain bear had swiped at her once, a wild dog had chewed at her shins and she’d waked funny for a week. This, she guessed, would be much worse. Her arms went up, her head went down. She braced for pain.

Movement in her periphery, then the sounds of a struggle. Her body unclenched and she realized she was not dead, or even dying. There was a flash beside her. She heard fire, smelled it, but still didn’t piece together what she was looking at until she remembered their conversation the other day.

Kyreth, or the wolf, or both, were on fire.

Her mind shouted at her: Move, you idiot.

Lilann moved, broke into a mad dash and nearly stumbled to her face as she came to him. On instinct she grabbed the wolf’s pelt, and the instant she let her aether sink into it, she felt resistance. She let go. No time to fight on two fronts. Instead she found the cloak, twisted her fist into its fabric and flooded every fiber with her will. She felt it like she did her lyre, her knife, her props; it became an extension of her, almost.

Whistling, she crossed her arms first, psychically pulling both sides of the tangled cloak around the wolf’s body once, twice, and then yanking tight as she could. She held those ends together with one mental fist, and with the other she made a flinging motion towards the ground. Again she shouted: “Down!”

The thing was heavy, but with the amount of aether she’d pumped into the cloak she hoped it would be enough to throw the beast off of Kyreth and pin it to the dirt.

Amidst the stench of fetid corpses and blood, the blazing pyre that was once a wolf stood out starkly in its foulness. The stench of boiling flesh, burning fur, tar, and rancid ichor filled the area in a thick black haze from the immolated remains of the wolf attacking Liliann, making Esvelee gag and cough, fighting back the urge to vomit. The horse quivered against Ceolfirc’s command at the putrid smell, the overwhelming panic and its base survival instincts eating away at the mercenary’s control.

Liliann’s quick thinking saw the wolf and cloak fly off Kyreth and hit the ground next to him; unfortunately, with so much behind the command, it kept going down off the road, into the brush. Thankfully, recent rain kept the area from catching immediately, but lighter smoke began to curl up from around the flaming remains and leaves around the bushes slowly curled inwards, green leaving for brown along the tips. Thankfully, the Tainted duo came out with only some injuries: Kyreth’s hands and a splotch on his cheek were red and white, blisters already forming from the heat, and the front of his clothes were blacker than they had been moments ago. Liliann got away with little more than some reddening on her hand, just stinging from the exposure.

“Bubble.” Cerric swished his wrist and a small orb of water popped up above the flames, no larger than a marble. The water in it whirled aggressively as it expanded, growing larger and larger until it was the size of the carriage, the ashy remains of the cloak and wolf caught in the whirlpool. With another flick and a word, the bubble popped and water rushed away from the carriage, taking the victims of Kyreth’s poor control deeper into the forest. He still hadn’t moved from the wagon, but he’d turned his attention away to their last remaining ambusher.

The wolf scrambled as it hit the ground, still pawing at the thing wrapped around it’s snout. It took barely a second though, for it to climb back to its feet and evaluate the two in front of it. One was ready, body language poised for a fight. The other…

Eila was distracted.

It lunged again, claws catching Eila deep in the calf and slashing around towards the shin. It’s depth perception left it off balance and it stumbled after the attack, stumbling past Eila and slamming heavily into the cart, Esvelee grabbing the sides as she jostled. “The cargo is delicate! Keep these bastards away from the cart!” The wolf steadied itself and readied to lunge at Eila again.

---

Huh. The theory about their heads had been correct. Or they were waiting for a chance to spring up again, but the boy solved that quickly enough. Ceolfric would've preferred to keep the body where he could see it, but he'd settle for removing it from the equation altogether. The rest of their team didn't quite fare as well; they looked to be in varying degrees of distress - Freckles was a goner, Eila would probably join him soon enough - but then Kyreth veritably exploded. The bandit thought it a trick of the necromancer at first, a last ditch effort to kill them now that they'd discovered the trick to subduing the wolves, but given that the wolf already had Kyreth dead to rights and there was no reason to waste a corpse like that, it finally clicked that the fire might've come from the boy underneath.

Cerric finally moved into action after Storyborn tossed the beast with her mind, only to douse the flames and nothing else. They could all fucking die, but gods forbid a tree burn down. Piece of shit. The damn horse didn't help either, it strained against its mental shackles just enough to keep Ceolfric consistently annoyed. The final nail in the coffin was Esvelee's pointless shrieking. Useless woman couldn't even control her own pack animal and she had the audacity to critique them while she cowered inside the wagon.

Speaking of useless women, Eila still hadn't made any progress on her assailant and Ermes seemed to have noticed that he was evidently incapable of handling the wolf himself, given how he'd summoned Ceolfric to help. The bandit rushed past the cart, giving him opportunity to release the snare he held on the horse's mind now that he was no longer in stomping range. It would give Esvelee something to content herself with since she had time to whine. As the wolf reared back to lunge again, Ceolfric thrust the rim of his shield into the side of the beast's head, hoping to exploit its earlier show of poor balance and at least keep it from ripping another chunk out of Eila, if not collapse its other orbital.

"And here I thought elves were nimble," he grunted tastelessly as he raised his sword and slashed wildly at the neck, "Another restraining spell would be nice, one of you."

---

Irrigans femur what the fuck was that? A burst of flames emerged out of Ermes's periphery. Where once laid one of the tainted entangled with a wolf, now was a ball of flames and the scent of burnt decaying flesh that began to permeate the air. He froze as images of his past flashed behind his eyes. The scent of burning flesh reminded him of the raids he'd encountered when he was younger. Scenes of oil lanterns being spilt over as it enclosed families within their house flames, parents braving the fires to rush their children's out to safety only for the parents to be struck down by the Sahagin menace, leaving nothing but an immolated corpse behind. This temporary lapse made him slow, unresponsive as the wolf had already chosen its new target. Whereas before he was prepared to strike, now he just stood there in the same pose, seemingly not there.

Esvelees shout was enough to snap him back, shaking off the memories he'd tried to bury with the dead. Ceolfric seemed to have made it towards them, the fire had been handled, and for the most part the tainted twins were fine. Eila on the other-
Dear gods. He nodded towards Ceolfrics request, but it'd be a waste of Aether to consistently conjure up solutions for their own shortcomings. He had a limit, one his perception made him gravely aware of. So Ermes beckoned his creation over, the large skeletal hand using its fingers to drag itself and crawl like a nightmarish creature towards them. Once it'd reached the wolf it came down, piercing its sides as it lay on the ground knocked over by Ceolfrics advances. The fingers went through and into the ground, pinning in place with the pinky through middle fingers while the thumb and forefinger pinned either side of the head to keep it straight and from moving.

"You have your restraint, now finish the damned thing." Ermes replied, a slight edge to his usually melancholic voice. He went over towards Eila, his pointer finger out as he spun it in a circular motion, moving it backwards to create a spiral of Aether around Eilas calf before solidifying it into a bandage. "Enwrap. There, that should help with the bleeding, though you may want to readjust the pressure. I'm not exactly skilled at bandaging others yet." Ermes got up from his kneeled position making his way towards the wolf and Ceolfric, the head would fall faster if they alternated chops. So he pulled his sword up, aligning it with the extended neck and began to help hack away.

The wolf was only on top of him for a moment, if that, but to Kyreth it felt like an eternity. His hands burned as he struggled to free himself from the flaming creature, but the pain didn’t register immediately; instead, he thrust his hands into the flaming mass above him, pushing with hands and feet to get the writhing monster off of him.

Finally, the wolf was yanked aside; Kyreth couldn’t tell by what, but he didn’t care. He scrambled back on reflex, eager to put as much distance as possible between him and the beast, but his senses finally returned to him and he fell onto his back as pain in his hands finally dawned on him.

“Ah!” he hissed, gritting his teeth as prickly waves of searing pain coursed through his trembling hands. They looked bad - angry white blisters were already popping up out of his reddened flesh, and dirt from the road mingled with the wounds from his mad scramble. His cheek didn’t feel much better, and his clothes were singed black - for a mercy, they weren’t burned completely, but he could only imagine what a sight he was, looking like he just stumbled out of a burning building.

With a painful grunt of effort, Kyreth pulled himself up into a sitting position, cradling his ruined hands in his lap as he finally caught his bearings. The others were dispatching the last wolf, if the sickening sound of hacking at bones was any indication, but more importantly, Lilann was still in one piece. Her hands were red as well, though fortunately not as much of a mess as his own - she must have pulled the thing off him!

“Are y--” he began to ask, interrupted by a fit of deep, rattling coughs that doubled him over. His mouth filled with a foul taste, probably whatever was left of the acrid smoke he’d breathed in while fighting the wolf, and when the coughs finally subsided, he spat a mass of black sludge into the dirt beside him. Yikes, that couldn’t be good. On reflex, he searched for the waterskin at his hip, only to remember with a painful hiss that it was both empty and torn apart, and that his hands were in no shape to be searching for anything anyway.

Eila approached then, offering healing. “Yes please,” Kyreth croaked, voice still gravely from the smoke and too humbled by his pain to deny the help. He held up his hands, which already looked worse than a moment ago. “Oh, but check Lilann first,” he remembered, looking to his Tainted friend with obvious concern. “Did it bite you?”

---

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 little 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 tar—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.

“Don’t talk, just breathe,” 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. “Thank you.”

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.

“It’s a sunburn, I’m fine. See to him, please.” 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. “Not finished yet!” she called. “Their master’s still skulking about.”

Esvelee leapt for the reins as the horse regained its autonomy, the cart jolting forward as the frightened animal fled the scent of blood and fire. Cerric flew sideways as Esvelee shouldered roughly past him and before he could regain his balance, the cart hit a rough spot and he slid right off, blinking up at the foliage as he lay sprawled on the ground. He was silent for a moment while he processed his sudden change of perspective, but laughter bubbled out soon enough. "Dear gods, what fun!" Cerric cackled as he shoved himself into a sitting position. He peered ahead down the trail, nodding as he saw the cart slowing just around the next bend.

Meanwhile, the combined efforts of Ermes and Ceolfric managed to separate the wolf's head from it's body, where it slumped with a foul stench and black ichor seeping out of the wound.

"Well, evil necromancer or not, our ward has escaped our sphere of protection so make what recoveries you need, but do not dally. I will head onwards in the meantime!" Cerric announced as he stood and dusted himself off. One of his waterskins became unstoppered and spilled, but with a word and a gesture, the water slid back into the container clean and clear. He hummed to himself as he headed down the path, thumbing the corks on his waterskins.

Around the group the bushes rustled as the wind picked up but other than the lingering stench of burnt flesh and sodden cloth, nothing new leapt out at them.