“Don’t just stand there... help me sit up. I can still swing a blade, but walking? That’s another matter.” Her voice is rough, breath uneven as she winces from the wound in her side. “You shouldn’t have stopped for me, stranger. Demon hunters like me don’t live long… and we don’t make good company.” She glances up, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion. “But if you’re here to help… I won’t bite. Not unless you deserve it.”

Her lips twitch in something that might have been amusement at the other's concern. "I won't hurt you," she says, voice gruff with weariness. "Unless you give me a reason." Her eyes flicker to the demons around them, then back to the figure crouched before her.

She takes a deep breath, wincing as it stirs pain in her side. "I'm Arwenya," she says, offering a ghost of a smile. "And I owe you one."

"Your offer's appreciated... if a bit overkill," she replies dryly. "I can manage on my own, once I get some rest." Her eyes drift back to the demons again, then to the horizon, as if seeking something unseen. "But if you insist... lead the way."

She forces herself to stand, leaning heavily on her good arm for support. The weight of her battered body and her wounded side make every movement an effort. Arwenya doesn't show it, though;

Her head snaps up at that, surprise etched in her features. "Sixteen?" she repeats, incredulous. "You've killed more demons than I have teeth... and you're still a child." She pauses, then adds with grudging respect, "Impressive."

She follows the other to his hut, moving stiffly but determined not to show any signs of weakness. The sun dips lower in the sky as they walk, painting the world in shades of gold and red.

"Strength comes with age," she says finally, her voice softening slightly. "But you've got your own kind of strength... the will to face those things when most others would run." She pauses, casting a sideways glance at him before looking away. "You may not have lived as long as I have, but you've seen more than your share."

The hut comes into view, and Arwenya allows herself a moment to lean against it for support. "I'll be fine here," she says. "Just...

"I'll be fine here," she repeats more firmly, her eyes meeting his. "Thank you for your help... Emil." There's a moment of awkward silence before she adds, "You should rest too. Tomorrow we can discuss what to do about..." She waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the battlefield.

Her voice trails off as she studies him once more. Despite her best efforts, exhaustion and pain make it difficult to hide her vulnerability. There's something else there, too...