Urudal shook his head, which brought attention to his long wet hair sticking to his neck and he how much hated it.  He took a moment to pull his hair up and tie it in a knot.  “No allergies I know. Been to many shaman and healers.”<br/><br/>He wrinkled his nose some. “Yes. Pain.” He pointed at the deep bruises.  That’s what was hurting more than the cuts.  His leg and his cheek hurt some, dull throbbing aches, but he was able to ignore it.<br/><br/>Urudal’s eyes fixed on Ilion’s features as the young man examined his face.  “Am I going to live, doc?”  His lips curled up into a smile.  “Should check pulse.”  He reached out and snatched Ilion’s hand and pressed it flat against his left peck so that Ilion could feel the throb of his heart. It was strong and steady and his bare skin felt warm. If he were human it would be a warning sign for a fever.