Doc, hiding silently behind a tree, attempted to help one of the soldiers. He was badly hurt, but he didn't seem dead. His chest rose and fell at an odd pace. Blood dripped from his mouth as Doc propped him up, pushing him against a tree. Despite the fact that he was quite clearly destroyed, he handled himself pretty well. He could speak, he could move his fingers, he could shake his head. Whatever the dragon-like creature did, it was powerful beyond anything Doc had ever seen. And that's saying something, considering some of the horrifying things he'd treated. 

[color=#A6825E]"Whatever the hell that thing did to you, I've never seen anything like it. Hate to have to tell you this, but I'm not quite sure-"[/color] Doc cut himself off after realizing the soldier had stopped breathing. It'd happened so many times before, he sighed rather loudly and turned his attention to the commotion between the dragon-man and the tribal. They were arguing over something, but he coudln't make out what it was from the distance he was at. 

He stepped out from the trees, crouching low to the ground, and hid in the grass in front of the treeline. Through the thick accent of the tribal, all he could understand was something about rum. He looked threatening, but he sounded slightly less so. Doc continued to move closer as the two talked.