Oh. Right. Syrlya's a plant. Strange can't help but laugh, a little relieved laugh, before he shakes his head. "You bastard. You had me worried for a moment."

Strange starts to move over towards Syrlya. However, he can only take a few steps before he winces. Hmm. Seems like the wolf must have put enough pressure to break some of his mirrors. Strange bends down slightly, so he's got a hand on the ground to balance himself, as he turns the bitten leg to smoke. Two small shards of mirrored covering fall out of the smoke and land on the ground before Strange reforms his leg.

As he does this kind of odd thing, he's talking. Strange is forcing his voice to be nonchalant: he can't dwell on this. Not now. "Since you're alive, help me think this through. What the hell should we do with the bodies?"