Lyra limped as they keep going with her silver braid matted with blood and mud, her shadow-etched gauntlet flickered with runes that struggled to maintain their glow.
Salaris, her shadow-cloaked raptor, flickered at her side with her iridescent feathers dulled by grime and her talons clicked faintly on the stone.
Lyra's green eyes were sharp but shadowed by pain, stared ahead, her chest and side wounds bandaged but seeping, each step a grimace of effort.
Her breathing was shallow, her face were ashen, the rogue tamer's attack having torn open old wounds and added new ones. "We are almost there," she said, with her voice hoarse, barely audible over the drizzle's patter. "The Sanctum is close."
Kelvin nodded, his jaw clenching. "We made it through the Peaks and we will make it home."
Darius trudged on his right, his broad frame slumped, his hazel eyes were dulled by exhaustion and pain.