<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC Apology</div><div class="spoiler_body">I have kept busy since the 24th of last month, given I was given an order to take part in a class that has taken out my free time during the day for most part. Weekends I have spent mostly in tired rest. I'm getting ahead in it though, and the pressure is relieved. So I hope to get back to a decent rate of posting. Making a post here today, and hopefully I'll be back more commonly again. I apologise for all the delays. My class ends on the 20th of this month, so a little while still to go, but I'm getting there.</div></div><br/>The elven man watched the Aasimar a bit warily but trustingly, the arrow in the elf's chest had been healed around, so it wasn't a wound that was bleeding out more, but it would take a while to heal fully. Some healing magic would force the arrow out by itself in time, but for the time being it had mostly just sealed the wound around the arrow and pushed it back enough that the arrow wasn't pressing into anything critical. The arrow was lodged securely in the wound though, and pulling it out might cause pain. Pushing it, well that was anybody's guess. Based on the elf's breathing, though, his lungs were protected by the healing magic's effect at the time being.<br/><br/>((OOC: Approximately 1d4 damage extracting it, given the hooks on the head of the arrow. Pushing through would take a heal-check, success would leave it at 1 damage, failure...))<br/><br/>"I'm able to ride, it aches but I ought to be fine after whatever you did earlier. I feel the dull throb in my chest from the arrow's presence but its not a lightning rod for pain." He flashed a somewhat uneven smile, but it seemed that he was at least trying to look strong and dependable before that many women. Though at the same time, the elf's face did show a paleness to it, and a small breath escaped his mouth.<br/><br/>"The guard captain met a friend in the last village before here. I didn't think much of it, he's from the area originally. I thought he was meeting some friends and that's it." He frowned. "That's two hours ride back from here." He gestured behind, along the road. "Little village by the name of Ashlog."