Atrius was bleeding profusely, but he was sure that it looked worse than it was. If he'd had a wounded organ or a nicked vein or artery he doubted he would have run this far. That didn't change the fat that he was in an excruciating amount of pain. It was like their were lines of fire alight all over his body. It was hard to think through the pain he was feeling, but still he could focus. He recognized the long hair of Alina, and her voice speaking her strange language. At least she had run. Normally he could have helped her treat his wounds, he'd been doing it for years and he always carried bandages and ointment. They wouldn't do so well against the large wounds he'd received, but they would have got him up and moving.<br/><br/>He coughed, "It looks worse than it is." He said reassuring himself more than her. She was doing something, but he couldn't tell. In the early dawn things were hard to see, kind of blue gray. He felt her touch him and he wondered what she was doing. What could she possibly do. "Just give me a minute to catch my breath. He wasn't feeling cold, he was actually feeling better. It must have been his second wind.<br/><br/>He reached for his axe and pushed the head into the dirt to help himself up. He hadn't wanted to kill the monks, but they drew first blood. He would not be so lenient with them again. He was up and kneeling pushing against her. Atrius's animal instinct to stand was taking over. He knew they would not be far behind and they had only a limited amount of semi-darkness left to either run or make a stand.