Anou stepped forward, taking out a Swiss Army knife. There was a bit of queasiness on his face at the thought of shedding blood, but then he looked to the portal, where his friends had ventured before, and took a deep breath. He seemed to visibly steel himself, nod, then cut a short, narrow gash on his right arm and let some of his blood drip on the staff. Three drops, then five, then he bolted behind a rock formation to let Luke do his thing.