Doc heard the Dragon-man's voice clearly in the calm air. A survivor. Well, he technically was surviving, but he'd not been a survivor of the attack. In fact, he'd only just arrived, plans ruined when he realized people were being hurt. Stopping to help may have been a bad idea. He adjusted his mask, stood up, and stared back to the man. 

[color=#A6825E]"Less a survivor, more of a... Survivee, know what I mean?"[/color] Doc spoke shakily. He knew that if it came to a fight, he'd stand no chance. And he certainly was not willing to confront a man, a dragon, whatever the hell he really was. 

He took small steps back, getting closer and closer to the forest behind him. When his foot crossed the treeline, his whole body felt lighter, felt better, felt good. He hadn't even noticed when he was there earlier. It felt comforting, but at the same time, uneasy. All the same, it was better than getting slaughtered by a dragon. 

The moment he thought he had a chance, he whipped around and began to sprint through hom grassy forest, dodging trees on the way. His dark robes flowed like a black river as the bounced, slamming either onto him, or the trees that came a bit too close. 

Doc, while having a tough personality, certainly knew when he was in trouble. He just hoped dearly that there was someone - something - that could help him, assuming that he was followed, of course.