[good question. he looks down at himself, at his hand...and the other one, still gripping his sword hilt like it were fused to him; quietly he tries to train on the feelings of himself outside of the malaise of pain-induced adrenaline.]
Don't think so. Doesn't feel like it.
[beat.
his eyes wince.]
...This probably isn't going to endear us to the camp.
no subject
Don't think so. Doesn't feel like it.
[beat.
his eyes wince.]
...This probably isn't going to endear us to the camp.