As I struggled with my thoughts, Luke, Borealis, and Fable returned, collapsing with heavy thumps on the deck. At least, Fable did, having taken, by far, the most abuse from the dragon. I pushed my worries to the back of my mind, running to his side and burying my face in his bloodied fur. His natural regeneration, aided by Celestial Grace, had already closed his wounds. Still, I couldn't help whisper a sixth-level spell, washing the blood and grim away, ensuring even the smallest scratches were healed.
"I did well, too, you know," Luke said tiredly, leaning on his sword. He gave me a small grin, but winced as he touched his side.
Rising from my wolf, I embraced him. He limply returned the hug, his chest swelling with heavy pats. Gently, I moved his hand away, feeling his side for myself. My hands came away hot with blood, and he flinched.
"It's not closing," he said through clenched teeth.
