Arlyn talks to what appears to be one of the ship's stewards.  "Arlyn Wes-Thuninger - Ticket TK45-39482.  Room 26-B-2" he recites, almost automatically.<br/><br/>at the question, he reaches up, touching the blood on his brow.  He brings his hand down, looking at the red stain on his fingers - as if studying it to ascertain it's purpose.<br/><br/>"Ahh.. no.. I appear to be just...scratched.  I'm well" he hears the call again. "I think someone down there needs assistance.  And I'm looking for the closest way to get off this ship.  It felt like we re-entered and crash landed somewhere."  He looks down the hallways again, seeing abit of motion.  "I'm going to go this way.." trying to think which way he entered the Styx via.. "If you need assistance.." he offers- although his tone is one that says 'don't bother asking...'  coming across as one trying to save his own bacon.