...perhaps I am too unused to it, still, the cadence of combat, and the bloodshed it demands.

[ So easily, with a grace which seemed innate to her, she'd felled the creature which had drawn much too close to his heels, hoping to sink fangs into its prey. How had he failed to notice its approach? The answer is, of course, that his focus had been upon the Dark Knight and her wounds, his concern for her outweighing thoughts of his own safety and the monsters which had yet to be silenced both.

But... how had she drawn the enmity of so very, very many beasts? Raising his stave, he casts a summons for wind, using the bright arcs of his magic to drive the creatures which would encroach upon them back, temporarily keeping gnashing teeth and wicked claws at bay. ]

Though you are strong enough to endure injury, you need not wear it as though it were your crown.

[ But that is only how he feels, isn't it? She likely has her own sentiments upon the matter. Distantly, he wonders at them. Who she is, beyond her blade and armor. ]

Still, thank you, for protecting me. [ A nod of his head, the fringe of his hair bouncing lightly with the motion: ] Shall we finish this together?