Planting the butt of his spear in the sandy ground, Jamas let out a deep breath. It was never pleasant having to revert from the beginnings of a blood rage to a retreat, but long years of discipline always paid off, and he started cooling down, a bit at least. Adrenaline didn't wear off so fast; indeed, probably wouldn't as long as that army was staring down at him.
Calmer now, he surveyed that army, and after a moment, decided it was probably best that they were retreating. He wasn't a coward, but things didn't look good here, and throwing your life away for honor was a fools game. Nodding, he marched over to the others. Being as careful as he could without wasting time, he placed his left hand under Yume's unwounded shoulder and began hauling her to her feet. "Don't see why not," he responded a bit tartly to his commander, "the shoulder doesn't exactly have much use in the walking process." Maybe he said that a bit impatiently. Well, too late now. "Here, put your arm around my shoulders and shift your weight onto me so you can walk easier," he told Yume, his voice softer now.
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