"One isn't far from the other," she pointed out. She wasn't going to say, I was worried. Aspel and Drake seemed to be all right, and that was all that mattered as far as that went. No need to talk about it.
"If you say so." Truthfully, it was a relief, because she doubted she could support the weight of Aspel and her armor. She wasn't much for heavy things. Still, she watched carefully as Aspel stood, noting that while she was not visibly bleeding or bruised any longer, she was also quite stiff and likely very sore. At the prompting, Ari picked up the device and dropped it into one of her pockets. One of the very best things about the extravagant clothing worn by bards was the quantity of pockets one could conceal about one's person. "Need me to take anything else?" She could probably carry the helmet is not the sword.
As Aspel laughed and then flinched, Ari muttered, "Note to self: stop being inadvertently funny around someone with broken ribs." Not that she knew they were broken, but it was a valid assumption, given the hits Aspel had taken, even if the white mages had hopefully done their jobs well enough to heal any serious damage. Anyway, she would sort it out later, once the armor came off.
She followed Aspel out of the tent and let her set both the pace and the course. Hopefully it was not a long journey, for her companion's sake. "Well, I overindulge in wine and general debauchery. You overindulge in... let's see, calling it masochism wouldn't be quite correct, I suppose. Daring feats of strength and valor then. But no one ever called into question the fact that you are more respectable than I."