<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">With the naga's understanding of the human language, he didn't necessarily understand some of the more anatomical words the man had chosen. Sinew. Dissection. He knew they were likely related to the body, but those finer details went over his head, leaving him to convey a simple answer of yes, he had been able to remove the arrowhead in his shoulder. It had been far less painful than the ones lodged in his tail which, despite lacking the same degree of nerve endings on the surface of his more human-like flesh, was far more tender inside. Which said nothing, of course, of how he had little choice but to put his weight there. Substantial weight, at that.<br/>
<br/>
To the best of his ability, K'qalikh shifted his lower body as the human wished, draping a portion of his tail over his lap to allow him easier access to the festering wounds. More than anything, he wished he was not in a position where blind trust was so necessary, but he had little recourse. Even if he had taken the blade into his own hands, he guessed - correctly so - that his grip would tremble far too much to cleanly and effectively cut the arrowheads free. For that, he needed someone unaffected by the searing pain. He could only hope his trust was not misplaced.<br/>
<br/>
Laying flat on his back, an arm crossed protectively over his abdomen, the naga turned away from the offered brandy. Not in an attempt to show discourtesy, of course, but a lack of willingness to trust it. He didn't know what the bottle's contents held, only that it was potent enough to clean a blade - one which the human then used to slice into his scales. Sucking in breath, the narrower end of his tail began writhing in response to the pain. Different sections twisted in different shapes; some in stacked coils, others in tangled masses, locking down in a bid to keep the rest of himself still.<br/>
<br/>
Tossing his head to the side, K'qalikh pinched his eyes closed, lips parting to yield protruding fangs that seemed to lengthen as he hissed. The feel of the human's finger probing the open wound nearly hurt worse than the initial impact of the arrow. Every shred of instinct called for him to lunge at the human, to dig hollow fangs into his flesh, to inject him with venom and remove what his most primal nature perceived as a threat. Fortunately for the owner of the estate, common sense won out, reminding K'qalikh that though he caused him pain, it was only to prevent the inevitable spread of infection. What happened to his shoulder could easily happen to his scales, and would be much more difficult to heal. Better this than the alternative, despite how badly he wanted to make it stop.<br/>
<br/>
A low, pained groan followed as the naga reined himself in, collecting himself just enough that instead of lashing out at the human, he convinced himself to instead breathe deeply. Twisting, he moved to lay his humanoid upper body on its uninjured side, an elbow bent beneath him, trembling with effort. It took all he had not to turn his underbelly away from the human, but he had gotten this far. It would have been foolish to get to this point, only to reel away. "Quickly, please," he begged from behind gritted teeth. With his nerves so raw, it was a wonder he was conscious, though if the removal process took very long, he wasn't likely to remain so.</span>