Nevin had been growing more concerned with Stare by the minute - from what he knew of her, shutting down like this could not be good. She had gone from trembling with some emotion to utterly silent, barely holding onto her mask with one hand and not even resisting slightly as he pulled/guided her down the corridor. The blood mage had to let her go to work open the door, throwing his weight against it, and he tumbled out into the bright sunshine, good eye stinging as it adjusted to the sudden light.

With a grunt of effort he forced himself back to his feet - the adrenaline was leaving his body now, and all the aches and pains he had accumulated during their escape were coming back to him. Still, they weren't safe yet, so he turned back to Stare - just in time to see his friend collapse like a puppet with their strings cut, whispering an apology. Alarm shot through him, forcing the pain back down as he rushed over to her.

She was, at best, half-conscious. One eye seemed to focus on him for a moment as he grabbed her mask from the ground and shoved it onto his belt, but the orb had closed by the time he carefully took one arm and levered it over his shoulders. It took two tries for him to stand up, as the first time he tried his ribs cried out and sent a burning wave of pain through him.

But onto his feet he made it. As he got her up, Nevin realized the problem inherent with his initial hold - she was short enough that trying to walk with her arm over his shoulders would just end up hurting her. For a moment he wanted to curse, but they didn't have the luxury of time.

So as she hung there, drained and exhausted, he moved around and scooped her up into his arms. She seemed so small and light as he held her up, and thin cords of red wove together under her body, a supporting network that ran between his arms.a tentative step, and she didn't seem rlto react - so he began walking down the hill, doing his best to follow the path.

The first warning he had was shrill, high, frantic flute notes that pierced through the sky, ringing discordantly as their origin hurtled out of the blue towards him. Nevin had only a moment to brace himself, before there was a loud popping sound and a rush of air washed over the two. Pounds of corvid crashed onto Nevin's shoulder, claws scrabbling for a moment to find purchase on the smooth crimson drakescales he now wore. Worried flutes trilled of toy as Aphrael checked him over, louder notes escaping her she she found the injuries on his face. The concerned, frightened bird broke off her chastisement and worry in a funny, confused twirl of notes as she noticed that her human was carrying someone. For a moment her crimson eyes scanned over the slumped form in Nevin's arms, before she snapped her head around, accusatory flourishes filling the air.

"Wha- what? No! No I am not replacing you with her you silly bird! She's my friend and she's injured. No I will not put her down, she can't stand on her own and we need to get away from here." The low, suspicious piping of flutes trailed off into confusion, then alarmed trilling. "Yes, that's right.
Away from the people who captured us and hurt us. We got some of them but I doubt we got them all." As he argued with the crow on his shoulder, Nevin started walking again, looking worriedly down at the Kenku in his arms, making sure she was still breathing, even if she didn't seem to be registering what was happening.

They must have made an odd sight as they stumbled into town, one human with a Crow-woman in his arms, and am overgrown crow on his shoulders, because all of the villagers gave him a wide birth as he staggered along the streets. At this point he didn't know what on earth he was looking for - the exit from this place? He didn't trust the guards, not in a village this close to their former captors. Still, his feet carried him onwards, precious cargo cradled against his chest, until -

"Who are you, and where are you going with her?" A distrustful, authoritative voice cut through the fog of pain that had descended over Nevin. The alchemist tried to focus on the speaker, but his unswollen eye was swimming in and out of focus. "Wait. Red hair? Are you the one -" whatever the man was saying was lost to Nevin, as with a shrill cry of panicked flutes ringing in his ears he fell to one knee, managing to twist himself round to protect Stare from the ground as he fell.

"Can't say I was expecting that answer."