Amberdrake finally arrived with the rest of the flock to guide him, and he spared Cassian a single glance -- his eyes were strangely unfocused -- before bee-lining for Sanzo. Sanzo was bleeding out. Cassian was, essentially, regulated to 'walking wounded' status. That. Fast.

Drake slid to a halt by the downed Sanzo, and knelt down, setting his hands over the worst of the wounds and threading in the Gift to assess the damage. And the bleeding immediately slowed to a crawl.

He was in all his usual kestra'chern finery, but there was no smiling or artful elegance. Right now, Amberdrake k'Leshya was a war-Healer and trained chirurgeon in a therapist's garb. All efficiency and no hesitation. Kneeling in blood in the middle of zombie-infested woods? Whatever. Must be Tuesday.