Stavanger Bay There is no forgiveness in nature

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Julooke seemed scared to death that her attacker had followed her here. Did that mean he had chased her? Beric's gaze shot toward the arch in the rock. Could the male be nearby? He wanted to go check it out, but Thistle's frantic voice demanded his attention. He had no idea how to carry cobwebs, so he opted to use his muscles. I'll keep pressure on her neck, he responded quickly, moving to take over. He sat back on his haunches behind Julooke, placing both of his front paws on the wound and applying as much pressure as he thought would stop the bleeding but not her breathing. This good? he asked. He was no healer, so he needed confirmation that what he was trying to do was right.

Ragnar was outwardly as angry as Beric felt inside, and he agreed with his leader's order. I'll gladly escort anyone who needs to go out, he replied. He wasn't technically a warden yet, but he was a protector. His attention, while partially on Ragnar and Verrine, was still mostly on his important job of keeping Julooke's bleeding under control. Verrine was visibly upset, and Beric said the only thing that might make him feel just a fraction better. We'll find the bastard who did this, he promised. Gesturing towards Julooke, he added, His scent will still be on her. Get it. Memorize it. Beric didn't feel comfortable moving much in his current position or else he would have gotten the attacker's scent, as well.