Windsor was glad to be shoved aside, but all he could do was watch as a large dog began to rip at her wrist. There was nothing he could do; what was there to do?
The bloodstained woman had something strange happen to her all of a sudden. Out of what seemed to be nowhere, energy blasted out and threw back the attackers, knocking most of them out. He saw watched a few of the others flee, yelling. All that happened to him was a short stumble back. He adjusted his glasses and found that there was one guard left, standing behind her.
Even though the woman had put a dagger to his throat (he felt his throat with his hand at the thought of it) and punched him in the face, he still wasn't cross with her. As he glanced down in that moment, she looked like some sort of warrior to him. She had been cornered and seriously injured; he couldn't find it in himself to blame her for what she did.
As he glanced at the guard, he thought of what to do. He wasn't going to fight him or something of that sort. That would be ridiculous. Also, as he realized, the guard, after being stunned for a moment by what had just happened, reached for a weapon to finish her off with. The guard was young, and Windsor guessed he didn't know everything that was going on yet, judging by how he was handling the situation. He seemed to be itching to leave, but very intent on finishing the job, perhaps to prove himself.
"Hey, you, what are you doing? Don't you see that your fellow guards are obviously not doing so well? Go get someone!" The man frowned at her, at him, then glanced at the group of men who were knocked out. "Go!" The guard, startled by his command, ran off to join the men who had fled and to get help as well. Windsor turned his attention back to the situation at hand, cursing himself for coming up with no better reason to get him away besides getting backup of all things.
Windsor assessed the situation. So, there were quite a few guards, but they were all knocked out. However, they wouldn't stay knocked out for long, and neither would the others be away forever. On the slightly bright side of the situation, the blood wasn't flowing horribly from the arrow wound on the woman, as the arrow was blocking some of it from flowing. The wrist wound appeared very painful and ragged, but at least it wasn't mangled too badly or any parts that moved the hand torn. For the life of him, he could not find a good way to move her for a long distance, especially with her armor on. He wasn't particularly strong, and that didn't aid anything. He needed to come up with something, and fast. He couldn't take her armor off and leave her there; that wouldn't help things at all. He glanced around, looking for a clue, any clue. He spied a guard's helmet, probably thrown off of the owner or something as such. He grumbled and picked it up, about to toss it away, when he had a thought. Of course, it wasn't brilliant, but she would die if he didn't move her away quickly. There was a village nearby, he remembered, and a good healer like himself to assist.
To cover her face, he put the helmet on her. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for its task. Word of her was probably spreading by now, and it would only spell trouble to show her face around when he was transporting her, especially since she couldn't run away herself. It wasn't a particularly unique helmet either, which was very good. Any symbols would probably be hidden in the dark. He leaned down, using his magic to break off some of the arrow to make it not sticking out as far, but at the same time leaving enough for what they needed to do later. At the same time, he used a bit of magic to stop the blood from flowing so much from both wounds temporarily. He knew it would last long enough for the trip. Draping the cloak over her, he picked her up carefully, and began to carry her the best he could towards the town, staying to trials in the forest. He had no other run-ins with guards, and he supposed they were too busy licking their own wounds and trying to figure out exactly what happened.
A while later, he stumbled up to the town not too far from Arca, straining to keep carrying her. It was terribly difficult not to move her around at this point, and it was crucial that she didn't get hurt further now. To his best luck, the healer was just leaving the town to do his prayers by the river when Windsor stumbled up. After a short conversation between the two, Windsor and him carried her into the town and to his home, where she was laid upon a table. Windsor, exhausted, sighed and talked to him about what had happened. He knew the healer wouldn't speak a word of what had happened to anyone; they were close and the man was one of his word.
That night, they managed to get the arrow out of the wound, close it on the surface, and fix up the dog bite. However, internal damage remained and that was to be dealt with later. Both were bandaged for the time being. The healer used his magic to make Tiraris sleep through the night.
When she awoke, she would find Windsor looking at some writing on a page, leaning against a wall.
