Hachiya Kotori, one of her two teammates wrapped into the litter behind her, eventually stirred and opened blearly eyes. Her mind reeled for a moment as she returned to consciousness, trying to comprehend the moving scenery and the rough jolting of the litter on the ground, as well as the strange mix of feelings around her. She hurt, her chest a burning mass of pain, and her face was cold and sore from the wind and rain. But the rest of her was strangely warm. Damp, still, but swaddled and... and there was an arm around her? She looked up and her breath caught, finding herself staring at Kotetsu's closed eyes. What the...
Memory returned then in a rush, and she gasped. The fight in the woods, the storm, the strange owl-like spirit tearing through their team. Breaking Kotetsu against a tree, attacking Setsuna, then swooping down towards her. She tried to move, and the litter stopped as Setsuna heard her gasp or registered the shifting of her weight on the stretcher. Kotori grew agitited trying to claw her way out of the cloak and get back to her own feet again. A moment later she wriggled free and fell out onto the cold, wet earth of the road, then scrambled back and got her feet under her, her breathing coming short and fast.
"I.." She coughed, her hoarse throat catching hold of her words. She looked up at her remaining teammate, eyes wide. "Setsuna, I.. we.. You saved us?" She stepped forward and quickly embraced the older girl before she knew what she was doing, overwhelmed with relief that her comrades were—mostly—alive. The moment passed quickly as her reeling mind caught up, and she stepped away again.
"What happened? I remember that.. thing, and it..." she hesitated, and brought a hand up to her chest. Her tunic was torn to shreds, stained red and gold—gold?—and she felt bare, raw skin beneath. Incredulous, she tore the hole in the fabric wider and gaped. She could remember—no, she could still feel—the spirit tearing into her chest. She should be dead. Her clothes were evidence enough of the extent of her injury, and yet the skin beneath the torn tunic was whole and unblemished. A few dried smears of blood wiped away to reveal no injury at all. She looked up at met Setsuna's gaze, stunned.
The Genma. Realisation swept through her and she shuddered, face growing pale, then spun away from Setsuna to try cover up. Of course! That's what it does, right? But how? What did I do? She stripped off her tunic and folded it into a thinner wrap, then tied it back around herself as decently as possible. It left her midriff and shoulders bare, but in the moment she didn't even notice the cold. If Setsuna had been watching, she might've spotted an intricate golden tattoo wrapped around much of Kotori's torso before the girl quickly covered it.
"I'm okay... Somehow. I think." She turned back to Setsuna and gave her a wary look, hoping that the other girl wouldn't press the issue just yet, as incredulous as the situation may be. "Better than okay. Let me help." At first Kotori's words were bravado—her legs were still shaking as she hurried over to the stretcher—but soon she realised she did feel good. A little sore, a bit cold, sure; but even those feelings were fading with each passing moment. She pulled back to cloak to inspect Kotetsu, but in the end sighed and re-covered the boy in the litter, tucking him in tightly.
"I... I don't know how to help him.." She confessed, feeling a wave of guilt. Why was it that she was okay, when these two had saved her? She should be able to help them! She closed her eyes and tried to reach out to the beast within her but, for what felt like the first time, the monster was silent. Nothing responded to her mental cries. And so, scowling in determination, Kotori stood and helped lift the litter. With two of them, and with Kotori taking as much of the weight as she could, the group continued towards Mihara, now moving much quicker than before.
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Some time later, the two women staggered into the outskirts of Mihara. The sky was clearing a little, and the first hints of morning gave a gentle illumination from the east, but it would be some hours yet before any of the locals stirred. If ever they did. What they could see of the small village—little more than a hamlet, really—was a ruin. Buildings on all sides were partially collapsed, and piles of debris lay strewn between impromptu shelters and lean-tos along the sides of the path. The ground was sodden through, and wooden spars sticking up from wide pools of brown water told of tragedy in the village. A lone figure stepped warily out of one of the buildings ahead of the two girls, a farmer's scythe gripped with weak arms as he peered through the darkness at the newcomers. He wore a stiff and worn leather jerkin which was clearly several sizes too large for his gaunt frame, and he swore as he caught a good view of the two girls.
"Gods breath!" he dropped his weapon and hurried over, his hostile demeanour vanishing as he took in the condition of the group. His eyes caught the glint of Iwagakure shinobi headbands, and he froze. "You finally came?" he asked, relief and hope flaring in his expression despite the obvious state of the three ninja. "Come with me, in here. We can help your man."
He led the group up a set of steps and into the shell of a mostly-intact building, where salvaged timbers held up a sagging roof. Hunched figures lined the hallway and crouched in the rooms they passed, watching them with despondant eyes. None rose to investigate. The man led them to a kitchen at the rear of the building and quickly cleared a table, indicating that the girls set Kotetsu down upon it.
"Wait here. I'll fetch the doc. And the watchmaster, if he can be found..." The man scurried away, leaving the group alone in the decrepit room.