<div class="floatleft">(http://img195.imageshack.us/img195/4926/nishkahead.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Action:</strong>Nishka helps Firesong as much as she can, but doesn't use any more than her retinue of 1st level spells to heal the wounded. After that, she turns to leave from the tent.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>"Tea...cycle,"</strong>the girl murmured, completely lost.<strong>"I, umm,"</strong>and here Nishka grimaced.<strong>"I don't really know all that much about what I'm doing here. I better...get out of the way, maybe?"</strong>The young woman seemed vastly out of place beside Firesong, amongst all the wounded. Her dress was fine and rich-looking, and hardly suited to the work ahead of her.<br/><br/>She listened to Firesong speak, and her thoughts turned back to Henry, the man she'd seen disemboweled only hours earlier. She hadn't saved him, and she doubted that she could do much for these poor souls either. Now that she was back in Barovia, she could hardly afford to weaken herself by using up all of her magic...and the blood; Nishka just new that being near so much blood was a bad idea. It had a way of attracting predators.<br/><br/><strong>"I'm sorry,"</strong>she murmured again.<strong>"It was very nice to meet you, Miss Firesong. I need to go, though."</strong>There was tear in her eye as she turned to leave, and her heart was laden with many, complex emotions. Fear, frustration, humbleness at not being able, or perhaps just not willing, to do more for the wounded in the tent.