[No big deal, dude! I'm patient.]
Kulthanos had just been figuring out the emotions and thought processes of a quieted mind, and now his thoughts seemed mired in thick slop. Everything came so slowly.... But it came.
Of all the things he was capable of, he'd never have thought expressing himself would be so hard. He could feel it there, compressed into a white-hot point, but it was like he could only draw so much from it.
Ahead of them, he could see what appeared to be the remains of a village. He stopped walking, as images flashed behind his eyes.
Fire. Screams. Blood, hot and so aromatic, mixing with the rain and the mud. He could remember the parts of his body being torn asunder over and over again, even as he ripped apart the defenders and consumed their bodies.
This was the last village he'd come across before he'd raged on to the castle. In all this time, the ruins stood. Kulthanos closed his eyes, and sighed. When he opened them again, he found himself looking down at her.
"There's... Ruins ahead. I'll find the most intact, and you can rest within."
The most intact was obvious, a single story house of brick, it's stones scorched and blackened from the fires so long ago. The door was still left standing open after the years, and with a loud creaking, he shouldered it open and stepped within.
The furnishings within were all still there and, thankfully dry, if not a bit dusty. He explored until he found the bedroom, and he laid her down as gently as possible.
"...rest. I will attempt a fire to warm you."