{WSE} I've lost my patience, when are you gonna decay?

It was cold, even in his noble blue cloak Koma still felt cold.
Perhaps it was because it wasn't your average "its cold outside" cold, more rather the chill of watching Scout's limp and seemingly lifeless body roll off the side of this mountain only a mere hour or two ago. Having been coaxed over after their screaming-sobbing fit by some kind finley to at least tend to his wounds as well as the heartbreak, they didn't process the names of them; just that they were hanging on the sidelines to aid the worst casualties whilst giving the tired an attempt at respite. In all fairness it was quite the adept system despite how much of a shambles the battle was in its beginning, every time one left to fight another would come back to recover and lick their sore and battered wounds. If Koma wasn't still shell-shocked he'd probably be impressed by it all, but for now they were just sat there shivering. Maybe looking back on it he'd contemplate taking up some medicinal training or magic in future, it'd be quite helpful if such a tragedy ever befell Windsong again.

Back to the matters at hand though, the ghastly sight of the siren's silhouette leering through the blizzard. Ripping through warriors like a makaaba through the rivers of the isle with seemingly no certain struggle at all, it was demoralising. The mood amongst the field had almost entirely shifted within the hour all thanks to that unexpected loss, the faces Koma could make out looked scared and afraid as the beast's pale blue glow faintly illuminated them. Good grief... Maybe he should turn their gaze back to the helpful paws and claws sat there gently tending to his broken arm, not that they exactly asked for it, muttering something he couldn't quite discern that to the other ailing injured sat alongside him would've known to be a warning to lay off it.

"By the spirits, what were you thinking?"
Were they trying to talk to them?
"I'm impressed you're not yelping like a kit"
At what? The pains from his fractured bones that they had already grown numb to?

"To be fair, the kid just watched that girl go over the edge. Poor thing must be shook."

It was a weird experience, to be sat here in a miserable heap as people talked at him.
...To be fair, even talking at him was a generous oversight; it was more like talking about them, as if he wasn't there.

Did they even want to be there in the first place? Couldn't Koma be out there? Helping with the siren as it screamed and shrieked in delight at the carnage it caused, rather than being sat over here in what barely even counted as a shelter let alone a medical bay; they weren't even out of sight of the bloody battle. That battle that just wouldn't leave him alone, haunting their every thought whilst he sat there sinking further and further into the worst mental slump they've experienced yet since the wraithrel attack that got him and Scout into this mess. If they hadn't had let that damn territorial prick get a good attack in on either of them. Maybe if he never asked Scout to even go on this expedition they wouldn't be out here, one presumed dead and the other injured and on the brink of a bad idea! Oh what a way to go out eh Koma? The coward's way of course, only suiting for someone as meek and weak as they were to escape the fate of his friend purely by sitting on their ass and doing nothing but spiral on the inside. Thinking up just about every single kind of way that things could be his fault, not to mention the ways that Scout could be resenting them from the afterlife; oh spirits above what if she somehow survived and found out that he didn't even try to check if she made it???

The thoughts that whirred around Koma's skull, the sort that gives you a headache.
Headache was underselling it even, the pale nyulop's poor head was pounding with such overwhelming guilt and shame.
Staggering to their feet without a care for the requests to stand down.

Who gives a shit if he returns to the battlefield? Who cares if they die? The siren certainly didn't when it caught wind of his presence, maybe it could hear the feint grinding and snapping of the bones in their bandaged arm as that battered bow was raised once more. Now with a fresh quiver of borrowed arrows and a newfound numbness to its wielder who shakily walked forwards closer and closer to the beast itself. Koma couldn't give a shit about the pain anymore, raising an arrow-tip to face its gaping blue maw with a lost and blank look to him; the tearing of their tendons could wait till they were home after all. What mattered most to Koma now was firing a damn arrow into its wretched and blood-smeared face, not the finley begging for him to stop, not the monster that tilted its head in a sickening grin as it stood there menacingly. Rows of horrid teeth bared and ready to attack the moment he let loose.

Did Koma care about that? Nope.
They just took a deep breath and let loose.

Arrows flying through the air without a care or a guaranteed target, all they did were to disorient it at thise rate. Forcing the silver serpent to dodge and weave frantically just to avoid another piercing blow into its hide, just enough to give others a chance for a final charge.