Oren sighed, he really did prefer to have someone help him so he wouldn't risk falling. He felt like it made him seem really weak though, especially considering he hadn't been able to help Erik. Oh the fragile little human man, making a big show of collapsing even though he didn't do anything.
He reluctantly accepted the arm to lean on and followed the Howler with just a quiet little "thank you." With the Howler's help he slowly made his way into the indicated communal tent. Once he could sit down inside he asked politely for some water to drink and a bowl to wash his hands in. The blood-soaked clothes could wait a little longer but Oren preferred to at least clean his hands. Eventually he would want some food too, but that could wait a bit longer. He may or may not have been thinking straight. It had been a while since he lost a patient.
Oren had managed to drink a little water and scrub most of the blood off his hands by the time Shyla and the rest returned to camp. He had asked someone for a new bowl of water so he could finish cleaning. Despite being in the tent, Oren shivered a bit from sitting in the damp clothing.
He looked up as Shyla entered but his face held very little emotion on it. He told himself he had come to terms with the death itself, however that was mostly a lie and he would still be reeling from the pain the others were experiencing. He had lost a few patient before but normally he would have left their loved ones to their grief. That wasn't exactly possible here and, if he was honest, he wanted to stay and try to help these people even if he could have left.
The dull throbbing of his head snapped Oren out of his thoughts and he rose to try to speak to Shyla. "Shyla, I'm sorry... I..." What is there to say? Is she angry? Does she regret bringing me here? Is she going to hurt me to ease her own pain? He gave up and sat back down. The only option was to let her decide what she wanted to do first and then try to deal with that as it came.