There was blood on Gabe's hand, and at least some of it was his, trickling down from a cut on his wrist. William caught it as Gabe let it drop away, taking a step back in to turn his wrist over and examine the gash.
"You're a mess," he said, finally starting to notice the state Gabe was in. "You should probably find some bandages. There must be people around who can do basic healing spells, but I have a feeling we're all worn thin right now, and there will be higher priorities."
He was starting to shake a little, which made sense because it was the end of October and the sun was barely up, so the air was frigid, but this was probably more a post-adrenaline reaction than a chill. The kids would be in a similar shape; he and Gabe should probably both start working on getting everyone inside and finding whatever they could to ration out before the entire student body passed out on their feet. And Gabe had a House to look after.
"Your kids will need you," he said, without letting go of Gabe's wrist. It was medical, sort of, he was allowed to hold on for a minute. He pulled himself away and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, which was marginally less grimy and bloodstained than the rest of it. "And I should get back to the Tower."