Johnathon had dived aside into the snow as the fighters came to blows. He crawled away, staying low and away from the noisy battle that ensued for fear of being caught in the crossfire. Whatever Soah had turned into, that was it, that was the end. His travels ended here, miserably dragging himself through the snow. A yelp, incongruous with the snarls and roars of the beast, alerted him and he spun in the snow. He was covered in the powder and swept some of it off his chest to see. There were Crom and Soah, still locked in struggle, but the beast had begun to degenerate into his original form. John sat and watched, awestruck by the impossibility he was witnessing. A breathless, "How?" escaped his lips, no more than a whisper. The impressed wanderer sat up on his elbows and simply stared at the two battered men, wolf and warrior, and wondered at how they were still alive. Crom was bleeding, however, he could see it from here and no matter how stout the man was they weren't getting anywhere bleeding like that. He rolled over and pushed himself up to his feet before walking towards Crom. He gave Soah a wide birth, circling around the pacified beast as he made his way. "H-hey Crom," His voice caught uncomfortably in his throat, "Y'alright?" What else could he say? He'd just saved their lives.