[Rorinil, Kral, Seaghdh]
Rorinil couldn't help but laugh, at the end of it; it was a demented laugh and it ended in a fit of coughing. But, he was estatic with the fact they were both alive, and the werewolves dead. The corpses of the beasts were ripped and torn by both magic and steel, but what finally killed them was obvious; spikes of ice protruded from the bodies, some sticking partially in, some ran right through.
Rorinil had no idea how Kral could withstand so much pain, the wolves had ripped through a good portion of both their bodies. And, his robes were absorbing a great deal of blood.
Kral was only a short distance away, trying to get up, but failing. His armour was ripped and torn; barely staying on his body as it was. It would be almost impossible to salvage now. But, it had lasted him two werewolf attacks, which was quite impressive.
Rorinil staggered over to him, collapsing next to his brother with a smile, "Just wait a moment, I still have some magicka left," he barely had enough left, but the healing spell came out, juttering, almost unstable. It stopped some bleeding, healing only a few wounds.
"Yourself." Kral managed to rasp out, he looked defeated for a man who just won a battle for his life.
"Oh yeah," Rorinil turned the spell on himself, but the spell soon guttered out, "Too bad, huh."
Kral grasped for the potions in his pocket, finding that most of them were smashed. He pulled out a small potion, handing it to Rori, who finished it quickly. The bleeding slowed, but it wasn't going to be enough, "Too bad." He repeated, a smile covering his face.