Noctisardor Bypass tell me lies, tell me painted truths

mahler drifted in and out of consciousness.
rivenwood was hollow following the departure of their attackers. he did not yet know that they had taken indra. he opened his eyes. he shut them again and fell back into a satin blackness.
when the man recovered himself, this time he stayed present and rolled to one elbow. wylla. he felt as though he had seen her; it did not feel as if she were dead.
slowly it filtered back to him, in ever-widening snippets of bloodstained visuals; the pain that lanced through his body was enough to sicken him.
laurel.
the man lifted his heavy crown into the sky and began a doleful baying, calling to the scattered members of his pack. one step. another. the cave. the reek of merrick thickened as he he stumbled between the trees.
how long had it been?
"laurel," the man croaked as he weaved in the den's entrance. the sharp tang of vomit struck his nostrils. she was here, and his healer's knowledge told him of her dire state.
sequoia too, whispering in the dark. he could hardly bring himself to look at her. "laurel," he grunted hoarsely, sitting down too roughly beside her. he reached out to assess her wounds; to feel the pulse fluttering in her throat. 
"laurel. stand."
his mind took a mental tally of those he had seen and those he had not.
shame burned heavy and willful in the amethyst eyes, but mahler was resolute. he had failed in his guardianship. he would not fail in his healing.