>"Hold still, Hahrnet."
"But it fucking hurts..."
>"Ah know...", Plaguebloom replies and grabs your wounded foreleg, "But we need ta stahp the bleeding thar."
>It is indeed bleeding fairly briskly... And also secretes quite a lot of purulence already for such a fresh wound.
>Those damned pigs... They really got you good there.
>Who knows what nasty diseases grow on their infested blades?
>Death waits for the slightest lapse in concentration, it seems... Just one moment of carelessness was enough to allow this to happen.
>Fuck... What were you thinking? You could have waited just a few seconds more to reload your guns, but like always, you underestimated your enemies.
>They aren't as dumb as they may look... There was still some intelligence left in their rotten brains and they used it to strike you while your defences were down.
>Fucking bastards.
"I can't feel it any more...", you stammer, "Does that mean that I'm going to lo-"
>"Nah!", she interrupts you, "Not if we make it back in time."
"But we aren't even halfway through yet."
>"Don't worry, Hornet.", Occult Belle chimes in, "I can already sense the monster's vile presence... It's closer than we might want it to be."
>"See? Ya will be fine. And now please stop fiddling already."
"O-Okay."
>With great care and patience, Plaguebloom bandages your lacerated limb, even using one of her herbal concoctions to disinfect it.
>You know that they are pretty much priceless, so you are very grateful that she wasted one of them on one of your many mistakes.
>"Thar ya go."
"Thank you."
>"No problem. But y'all owe me one!"
"Heh.", you giggle and retrieve your leg, "Of course. How do a few ciders sound?"
>"Pretty good.", she returns your laughter, "Does it still hurt?"
"Can't tell any more... My feeling there is gone."
>"Don't let it trouble you, Hornet." Leperloo joins in, cleaning her giant blade with a dirty rug, "As long as you don't feel it getting suddenly hot or cold, it's alright. It's just a small infection."
"Small? I hope you are joking..."
>"This your first excursion into the warrens?"
"Yes,"
>"Then you would be advised to believe me. Those foul creatures are able to contract far worse diseases."
>Leperloo snorts and shakes her head, readjusting the bronze mask sitting on her face.
>"I've learned that the hard way."
"Okay..."
>"Yeah... Okay.", she monotonously answers.
>An awkward silence settles in and everyone returns to their seats.
>If you could even call those rotting logs seats... You can't wait to return to the Hamlet and sleep in a warm bed.
>Preferably with some easy colt... Or filly. Your preferences are not too strict in that matter.
>Stirring the brown sludge the caretaker dares to call a stew, you take a look around you.
>Plaguebloom is reading in some tome while Occult Belle is drawing strange runes into the dirt with her dagger, chanting in an ever stranger tongue.
>She worships the very darkness you try to defend yourselves from... That you know. But she does it in a weird way,
>A way that somehow benefits you instead of consuming your souls.
>Also she's quite proficient with her weapon of choice, something you didn't expect from a magic user.
>She gutted that Swinetaur with a singular strike... A feat that even your precise pistol shots were not able to achieve.
>Maybe those dark gods aren't so bad after all.
>You sigh and scoop some of the "stew" into your bowl.
>It doesn't smell good and it won't probably taste any better either, but at least it is warm and will allow you to find sleep faster.
>"How is it?", Leperloo asks you.
"Didn't try it yet."
>"Kay."
>The silence returns as you force the grout into you.
>Just as you expected, it doesn't taste like much and wash it down with some booze you brought with you.
>As soon as Plaguebloom sees your flask, she holds her hoof out to you and you give it to her without any words spoken.
>Alcohol is one of the few things that bring you facilitation here and you are more than willing to share some of it with your comrades.
>Who knows who will return to the Hamlet and who won't?
>It would be plain unfair to deny someone the taste of home.
>"Thanks."
"No problem."
>"How's your leg?"
"Fine, I guess.", you reply and throw your bowl next to the cauldron, "It's throbbing."
>"That's good.", Leperloo states.
"It is?"
>"Mhm. Means that there's still life in it."
"Okay then."
>Plaguebloom reaches into her saddlebags and pulls a small sachet of leaves out of it, holding it out to you.
>"Take this."
"Thanks.", you say and take the leaves.
>"Chew on them fer a bit. They taste bitter, but they will help with yer infection."
"Thanks again.", you reply and do as she told you.
>"Don't worry about it. Just don't forget about mah cider."
"I won't.", you chuckle, "I won't..."
>And once again, silence settles in.
>You retrieve your pistols and give them a good look over, trying hard to ignore the bitter taste in your mouth.
>By Celestia... They look filthy.
>Grime, blood and various other bodily and natural fluids completely coat their once so shiny barrels.
>It would be in your best interest to thoroughly clean them, lest they fail on you in a critical moment.
>God knows that has happened before. 
>So you pull out a rug and some oil out of your own saddlebags and start cleaning your chosen tool of death.
>And after a few minutes of dedicated scrubbing and polishing they are almost presentable again.
>Of course they are not in the best condition they could be in, but this will do more than nicely for the moment.
>As long as they still fire the bullets you put into them and don't shower your face with searing shrapnel, it will be fine.
>Stowing them away again, you get up and lay down on your bedroll.
"I think I will call it a night."
>"Yes.", Occult Bloom says, "It has gotten quite late."
>"That's a good idea", Plaguebloom states and closes her book.
"Who will keep guard first?"
>"I will", Leperloo says and stands up, shouldering her now shining sword, "I'm not tired anyway."
"Good. Wake me in four hours, okay?"
>You are quite exhausted, but the others really need their rest. They have done so much more than you in the past hours.
>"I will. Your rest shall be ensured while I keep my eyes wide open.", Leperloo says and giggles, the latter a quite rare occurrence for her, "Nopony shall get past my blade!"
"Thanks."
>Hopefully Leperloo will keep her word.
>Hopefully nothing will happen tonight.
>Hopefully you will wake up...
>What would you give for a few walls to protect you right now. This foul smelling clearing doesn't exactly ray out confidence. 
>Quietly mumbling a short prayer, you close your eyes and soon feel sleep overtaking you.
>"Huddled together, furtive and vulnerable... Rats in a maze.", are the last words you hear before darkness fully engulfs you.