Corath mulls Alaric's words over for a couple of minutes. "If they get better while I'm gone, we are slowed. If I don't bring a cleric and they die, we will be forced to destroy our friends."
A sensation akin to small knives seem to stab through her torso. Corath looks down, then looks up. Odd. I'm not hurt, but I am. Her eyes seem to focus inward. I will regret their deaths.
"That is not a good choice to make...either of them." She pauses. Her face seems to harden, as if Corath has come to a difficult decision. "I will stay. If they get better, we can leave. If they don't...you will not face them alone."