As with Kain, Inessa spends the next few moments intently watching and listening for signs of more blight wolves. But there are no answering howls, no snarls...nothing. The Blackmarsh is unnervingly quiet once more, at least for the time being. She grips her staff and looks back to Melys and Myr, as Garahel makes a Myr sandwich by sticking to his other side.

She shakes her head and straightens, unhurt if tense. Normally, she would give all the time needed, but this isn't an area where they have that luxury. Sooner or later, something else will be drawn to them. "A moment, and then we ought to continue. This marsh doesn't seem a forgiving place to linger."