Herbalists' Cache tell me tell me tell me, come on tell me the answer

Her mouth hung open while she sat there, dumbfounded, feeling the solidity of his body as he wrapped around her and held her tight. The only constant, the only real thing, was the stranger. The dead body was there too, would be there always, frozen and never changing, buried beneath the snow and forgotten — it wasn't fair. She felt the sense-memory of the bloated skin by her face and the tattered, frigid coat where she had tried to grab at it, but already it was fading from her. Melting away because of the man's warmth. He was real, she told herself. He would protect her. This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening...

And then through their shared sobs (which her brain had somehow drowned out too) she heard him pleading; she heard him apologizing, and Ibis shot him a look that was unsettling upon her petite face. It was accusatory and dark, filled with fear for a split-second, as if he had just admitted to doing the deed himself. She couldn't see his eyes because of how he had corralled her and when she realized this, Ibis wanted to distance herself. She struggled a bit against his presence but not for long.

They would sit there for a while yet. And when they were both composed enough, had mourned this lost life enough, she would struggle to her paws and lead him to safety. It was all she could ever do — gather people where they should be safe — but deep down Ibis knew that the Emberwood was in danger too. They weren't safe anywhere.