Blink nodded and dragged himself up off the ground, barely able to keep his balance once he got up. He immediately doubled over, clutching his waist with an agonized hiss before gathering himself up and staggering out of the tent. He was quite a sight for sore eyes, blood smeared across his face, his eyes red from crying, his face pale and terrified. He kept his face hidden from passersby, but a few noticed his stumbling and whispered among themselves. 
Whatever he had done to his side during his performance seemed to be getting progressively more severe. It started out as a sharp stabbing pain, then it seemed to worsen suddenly with the added injury of the fall. He'd vomited blood, indicating damaged organs. Unlike some of his fellow performers, Blink was merely a human child. A severely disturbed one, but a child nonetheless. He was delicate and easy to break, and likely would be for the rest of eternity or until he met his untimely demise. A diet consisting mostly of human souls meant he hadn't aged a year since the age of nine or so. He was actually closer to ten or eleven, possibly even twelve. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he ran away from home. 
By the time he got to the medic tent, he was on the verge of passing out. He slumped back against the wall of the tent, gasping for his breath as if he'd just been chased a long distance. He was sweating slightly, his face pale and flushed at the cheeks. He started to cry again, ducking down until nothing was visible of his face except his mop of wild blonde hair with a few bloodstains in it.