Faelan had troubles lifting himself off the ground. His body ached from the booze, the cold earth under him felt like it was digging into his flesh, and the wounds he'd managed to get through out the fight stung. Laying uselessly on the ground, he watched as Shula seemed to gather her composure and actually finished the beast off. Although she was using the sword wrong, she seemed to get the job done. With how much pain he was in he couldn't even bother to complain about her handling his blade. The sizzle of the beast's blood melting into the floor reminded him that Shula had been sprayed by the shit, and looking closer, it was actually quite easy to see the burnt skin.<br/><br/>Sitting up, he struggled to not throw up. The pulsing in his head was much too sharp for him to focus, so he managed to grunt a 'good job' towards her. Attempting to take his sword seemed pretty futile. Even as he tried, the weight of the blade was resisting what little strength he still had. He heard doors grating open as they sat there quietly. The heavy breathing between them was labored, and he almost passed out. A few jumbled voices seemed to be chatting as they walked through the doors, and he distinctly picked out Sam's voice.<br/><br/>"I didn't think they were going to get him."<br/><br/>A few jumbled words later and Faelan lost consciousness.