On her way back from the clearing Astrid had unfolded her silver necklace and clasped it back around her neck, dropping it several times from the slickness of the blood that stained it. She had reached the restaurant and was standing just outside of it, cloakless in bloodied and torn clothes, her fair skin and white hair sticky with blood as she shrouded herself in shadows to heal and hide.

She glanced at the door, not being able to bring herself to enter. The strain from the bout in the forest had begun to make itself known as she calmed down, her neck and shoulders were sore and she had gashes on her chest, back, and ankle from Ryruil's whip. Pain in her hip told her the muscles there were pulled and her entire body was peppered in purple bruises of varying sizes. She was also dead tired, as she had discovered after her body had burned off the rest adrenaline.

Her eyes wouldn't focus when she tried to make them and she felt the blood on her hands and neck dry and crack, itching as it flaked off of her skin. Leaning against the side of the building, she wondered what the Araluens would think of her in this tattered bloodstained state…

By the time Will and Alyss returned to the restaurant, they were not very far ahead of Astrid. They had made their way back slowly, in a daze over what had happened. As they walked in, Will's cowl pulled low over his face, Alyss gripping his hand tightly, they attracted stares.

George had showed up and was sitting at the table with Gilan who was sitting shrouded in his cloak, head bent, and completely still. Seeing them, he jumped to his feet, looking them over for injuries. Will held up a hand in warning and Gilan sat down again, though still watching them anxiously.

Will and Alyss sat across the table from Gilan and George, who still had no clue what was going on, and glanced at each other. Then Will turned to Gilan and spoke in a quiet and rasping voice, "I don't know what happened."

Gilan took in the purpling bruise on Will's throat and the pallor of his and Alyss's faces and nodded. "We should get back to the cabin then, it's been a little more than an hour," he said in a low voice.

Will and Alyss nodded and stood along with Gilan and George. "We're terribly sorry George," Alyss told him.

"It's alright. We'll have dinner another time," his tone was subdued as if he sensed the situation.

Alyss nodded and followed Will to the door, then outside. They made their way to the road and began down it toward the cabin.

A soft thump drew Gilan's attention to the side of the building they had just exited. Hand on his saxe knife, he crept silently around the corner and almost tripped over a young woman in tattered clothes and white hair.

White hair.

Gilan knelt beside her, brushing her hair away from her face, already knowing that it was Astrid. The snowy strands were stuck together with a viscous dark liquid that he assumed, from the metallic smell, was blood. After quickly checking that her breathing was steady and that no bones were broken, he gingerly picked her up, one arm supporting her back, the other beneath her knees.

She was light as a feather in his arms and it was so easy to carry her, Gilan was afraid she would break in his grasp. Astrid only moaned once on the way to the cabin and that was when Gilan shifted his grip on her upper back. He had notice the gashes on her chest and back that were slowly but steadily oozing blood and he had seen most of the larger bruises through the tears in her clothes, but he didn't know the full extent of her injuries, so he kept from jostling her too much in his arms.

Back at the cabin, he tripped up the front step and stepped through the front door to find Will sitting at the table, the orange glow from the fire illuminating his face. He stood immediately when Gilan walked through the door with Astrid in his arms.

"Is she...?" The question died on his lips and he was unwilling to revive it as his eyes flicked to the limp form.

"She's alive, but unconcious," Gilan said, walking to the second bedroom that he had slept in the previous night.

Will followed him into the room and looked over her wounds after Gilan laid her on the bed. The gashes weren't deep and it was nothing she wouldn't heal from, but she had bled a lot and she was considerably paler. He stood and looked at Gilan in the half light of the little room, "She just needs to sleep."

Gilan sighed and nodded, "I'll stay up with her though, she probably has a concussion."

Nodding, Will stepped from the room, leaving Astrid to rest, and went to his own room, immediately dropping into his bed.

She was moving. No... She was definitely lying down. Then what was-

Astrid opened her eyes to find Gilan shaking her. "Wha-?" she mumbled before closing her eyes again. She was so exhausted and her entire body hurt, but he kept shaking.

"Come on, Astrid, stay awake," he was saying from above her.

Astrid groaned as pain bloomed all over her body, her mind becoming aware of all of her injuries as she woke. She opened her eyes again and raised her head to look around the room. Back to square one, I see, she thought. She bent her arms and pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing from the gash across her chest.

In an instant, Gilan was beside her, gingerly supporting her back and helping her up. "Take it easy, okay?" he said, concern vividly coloring his voice.

She turned her head to look at him and a touch of a grim smile flitted across her lips. "I can't promise that. In fact, you can be sure I will not. The plans for our departure tomorrow have not been changed, have they?"
"Um, I don't think so. I really don't think—"
"Always a dangerous past time," a voice interrupted from the door way. Halt stood leaning his shoulder against the door frame and as Astrid flicked her eyes up to look at him, he met her gaze and held it, "We still leave tomorrow."

Astrid let out a breath of relief while Gilan looked ready to speak up again, only to be silenced by a glance from his former mentor. Nodding gratefully, she turned her attention into herself and began assessing how much healing magic she should distribute where. Sore muscles first, then any large lumps, those would take the least magic. Then the cuts and scrapes from the inner most point of the wound outward.

At the door, Halt gestured to Gilan, who stood and, after leaving his waterskin on the bed beside her, walked out of the room. "Be ready to go shortly after dawn," he told her before closing the door, leaving her in her solitude.

She thanked the stars that Ryruil's whip hadn't cut any deeper, or she would have problems the next day. Whispering the shadow summons, she set to work soothing her sore and stretched muscles, dark swaths soaking into skin and muscle where she directed it. Then the shadows moved on to the lump in the back of her head, decreasing the size by more than half and taking all of the pain out of it before moving on to the things that were possibly detrimental to her health. She first healed the gash across her chest, the skin weaving itself back together at an accelerated rate with the guidance of her shadow magic. Then she directed her magic toward the slashes on her back and ankle, though those weren't as severe as the one on her chest had been.

Several exhausting hours later, with all of the wounds that could possibly trouble her healed, she lay back down on the bed and fell immediately into a deep restful sleep.