"Werewolves. Again. Damned beasts." The soldier spit. The scene was gruesome. It had been an encampment, and a small one all things considered, but now it was just a graveyard. Several pairs of men- of soldiers- walked around and, for the most part, picked up corpses and tossed them in the wagon. It only smelled like blood now. In a few hours, when the sun was high and baking the earth, it would smell like decay and death. The soldiers moved fast to avoid that. With them walked a few people in robes, or mundane clothing. Occasionally, a soldier would cry something to the effect of, "Come here! This one's still alive!" and the nearest non-soldier would run over and do what they could. It usually was just to ease the passing, but some were saved. Some were moved to one of a few other wagons, for patients, to be carried back to the settlement a few miles away. Other healers would work on them. Kagura had, like the others, volunteered for this. She had agreed to look for survivors. But this? She could see why there was such a stigma against werewolves. Is this retribution for how awful we are to them? But, it couldn't be; they were feral beasts, and these were innocent people. These were soldiers, unprovocative, and defensive at worst. These were no marked targets. These were unfortunate victims. "There's one over here," a soldier called, Kagura turned and walked to the pair and the body. She knelt down beside the victim: a woman, bloodied and in a bad state, with raspy breath and ill-fitting armor. "Let me at her for a few minutes," the brown haired girl said, quietly. There was so much blood that she could feel her brown dress seeping in the blood. She was white, but her feet were brown with dirt, and her knees would soon be red with blood. The soldiers cautiously stood, and moved on to the next body. The young woman cast her brown eyes over the body: blood, mostly. She pursed her lips, and reached for her leather belt. Between it and the dress she had stuck a cloth, and took it out now. She pressed it between her hands, and it was damp when she took it away. Kagura began to wipe away the blood to find the wounds, then healed what she could. It was tiring, and incomplete. Field medicine wasn't exactly protocol, but the woman needed some work before she could be moved. After the worst of the wounds had been stitched together enough to stop bleeding, Kagura called the soldiers back over, and had them carry the woman to one of the wagons headed for the settlement. Kagura hopped on in, and rode back with the patients. A cabin had been set up as a hospital. It was filled with rows and rows of beds, and some stools. The patients were emptied into the building, and Kagura sat by the woman she'd been working on, and waited for her to wake up. She was tired, and needed rest before she could heal her any more.