Snippet #1526404

Zephora stumbled on her feet as she slay the last of her foes, turning in time to see the mage at the entrance of the cave to end the life of the last standing Darkspawn. She blinked and took a deep breath, her chest paining her as she did so, but let loose a throaty laugh. It had been such a long time since her last battle, numerous weeks at least, though she had hoped for a fight with the man who has so marred her friend. She grinned confidently, deactivating her Draining Aura as she approached the small group concentrated around the panting she-wolf. Her Death Syphon remained activated for a little while longer, draining the corpses around her of their residual energy and bolstering her mana pool. As she approached, Asmara's healing spell washed over her, providing her a cool relief of her pain. She smiled thankfully at the elven woman, who had turned her attention to the party's shape-shifter, Arvin.

Zephora was certain that her injury would need no more magical attention, though it was still rather sore and not fully healed. It would be better for those around her to focus on recovering from the battle and restoring their own strength, she had a potion her pack at camp and would use that if the situation arose. She bee-lined for Blysse, standing between the group and the drake present with the unknown mage, and hummed her appreciation as she reached the exhausted female. Her hand extended, delving into the sweat-soaked fur of Blysse's shoulder to provide a refreshing touch to her unexposed skin, certain to avoid touching Cash. He wasn't ignoring her entirely, not so strange after their previous conversation, but she was certain that he still disliked her. "Blysse, ciamar a tha thu?" her words rumbled from her chest, inquiring to the she-wolf's condition, even though she was certain that Blysse couldn't respond in her current condition.