Argilla wipes her bloodied hands in the grass and stands. She'd very much like to get the blood off her clothes before it has too much of a chance to set. And Gale's suggestion of direction makes sense to her. She couldn't make out any glimmers of light reflecting on water from where they were, but that meant very little in terms of their chances. Even her eyes were limited by the flora around them.

"That sounds good, we can at least try it if nothing else." It wasn't like they had a pressing schedule to adhere to.