Liliana gave a silent nod to the woman with the dog who had spoke to her, her movement firm and short. They were still fifteen or so miles from Moscow and the relative shelter it offered, but if they moved quickly they would make it before it got too dark. The blonde woman found herself surprisingly tired considering how early it was and how little she had actually accomplished, but she supposed it made sense considering her rapid-fire brushes with death. From the depths of her hood, her murky eyes lingered on the young woman that had made her appearance with the vile little demons; round eyes the color of good liquor, and a head of hair that was a surprisingly vibrant shade of auburn and a worn black parka completed the picture. Had she seen her anywhere else, Liliana may not have looked her way twice, but this band of Imps hadn't done themselves in. Who knew how many had been with that pack before they had crested the hill? And who knew exactly who had put down that last one? The gun gripped tightly in her hand whispered the possibilities.<br/><br/>Still, this was no time to be analyzing her traveling companions, particularly when one of them was a running on half-cylinder. The woman appeared to be alone.... well, she was alone<span style="font-style: italic">now</span>at least. The Polish woman's memory flickered with the sight of the Imp who carried the eviscerated and quartered remains of a person, but she banished it to the back-burner before it became a full thought. The woman with the dog seemed vaguely more familiar than the rest of their party with the current location, even scrutinizing the harvester's marks roughly carved into the bark of the Redwoods. She found herself pause as the scrawny man with the huge pack flung something into the brush to the side, but she was not close enough to see what the object was... only that they man seemed very pleased with himself for having thrown it. Insanity had sunk it's fangs deep into this one, she mused as his adolescent wolf padded slowly in the giant's direction. Unafraid, she watched him for a second, her eyes drifting back to the broken man currently in an arm-cradle.<br/><br/>Without much pondering, she turned to the leader of the hunters (she had seen him doing a brief once-over of the group) and offered another nod, similar to the one she had given the sharp-faced woman. This was no time to linger.<br/><br/>His color... did not look great. She reached over and set the back of her fingers on one of his cheeks, her other hand resting lightly on the behemoth's forearm to help hold her at a suitable level. The man was cold, but not the frozen-cold of death; rather, he was actually warmer than her own fingertips, having been held close to a warm and exerted body for a longer period of time. She turned her face upward, lips visible but eyes still shadowed by the canopy of her hood.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Will you carry him to the city?"</span>, she asked quietly, her voice blank but clear. She supposed it would be unfair of her to just assume that he would bear the unconscious figure all the way to shelter, particularly if he had no intention of staying that long. He had given no indication otherwise, but assumptions never seemed to end well for Liliana.<br/><br/>Dziecko grunted quietly and poked his snout out near the chin of her coat, then withdrew again without showing the rest of his face.