Gunnar falls to one knee, panting, blood stained his left arm where the undead kin had wounded him, he was close to being overcome by the rage, no help to Skorri. He had hoped he would never fall to it again, but fate is what it is, at least he kept most of his blood this fight.

"Should we tarry to bury them? We don't have much time...Gather the horses, maybe we can inter them that their ancestors will not curse us."