Rich nodded in response to Alice, feeling her weight press down on his arm.  She was light, even for a lycan.  The Alpha briefly wondered exactly what Louis had done that made her willing to commit suicide if forced to return.<br/><br/>Dismissing the errant thoughts, he carefully looped Alice's arm over his head, so that it crossed behind his neck.  Mindful of her injury, Rich carefully slid his right arm under her legs, then picked her up.<br/><br/>He looked at Ian.  "I'll see you back at Pine Springs.  And don't forget you have silver in your pocket."  Then, to Alice.  "Try to keep your head and legs tucked in."<br/><br/>With that, he took off.  Rich more or less followed the same path as before, but went much slower this time.  Along the way, he did a cursory examination of Alice's wound.  She had been shot, but the wound was nothing more than a shallow furrow; a graze.  However, the flesh around it was swollen and discolored, and nearby veins were dark, seeming to bulge: all fairly obvious symptoms of silver poisoning.<br/><br/>Exactly eleven minutes and twenty six seconds after leaving the parking lot, Rich returned, Alice cradled in his arms.  Jogging towards the main gathering hall, the Alpha called out.  "Reinard!  Get the First Aid kit into the mess hall, pronto!"<br/><br/>Rich pushed the slightly ajar door open with his foot, then edged in sideways.  Inside, the main hall retained it's rustic appearance, but now it was accented with many odd touches.  Everything from authentic stuffed animal heads to a hand-crafted pool table decorated the interior.  Near the door was a large, narrow, and simple looking wooden table.  Rich's pack used it for anything that needed a steady, flat surface.<br/><br/>Setting Alice down on a clear section, he checked to see if she was still conscious.