Irene immediately turned to Henry, who had settled onto the ground, his back leaning against the smaller of the two wyrms. His eyes were squeezed shut as he held onto the arrow that stuck out of his side.
"I guess we've just amassed a bit more wealth," he joked weakly, referring to the two magical orbs that were left somewhere in the snowmelt.
Irene rushed to him and grasped his face with her hands.
"Please, Henry, you're injured," she uttered desperately. "It's because of me. I—"
"Not right now," he insisted. "We have more important things to attend to—"
However, at the icicles being placed on his face, his eyes snapped open, and he caught sight of her hands. One of her gloves was shredded; the other was missing completely.
"Your hands!" he shouted. "We must get you back inside and warm."
