Step by step, Bree guided Rav gently toward the others still on the battlefield. The world was silent, save for the soft groan of the settling earth in the wake of the myriad eruptions and explosions that rocked the land not an hour prior.
Bree adjusted herself, the Sage's weight heavy on her shoulder. His steps were shaky, but the grin plastered on his face hadn't dimmed in the slightest.
When they finally reached the group, Bree's father was the first to step forward. He towered over Rav, his shadow falling across them both. Rav looked up with a nervous and weak smirk.
"Ahem," the sage started, clearing his throat.
He straightened up the best he could, squaring his battered shoulders. He wiped a streak of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and looked the aged Ave in the eye.
"It's been a long time, Darter," Rav said, wincing in pain but putting on a strong face. He couldn't let himself come across as weak or undisciplined - not in that moment.
