Whatever brief advantage Julan had, he did his best to push. He made a jab towards Argrei's hand, but it was deflected. He tried to push closer to be able to reach Argrei's body, but the reach of the spear forced him back. Ultimately, Julan was having a hard time getting any sort of opportunity to strike his opponent without exposing himself far too much. Although, for much of the crowd, it was making for an exciting fight. There were cheers from some, and gasps from others each time their weapons came close to connecting for a significant wound. They did both pick up a few scratches: some surface cuts on Argrei's right arm and one shallow jab into Julan's upper thigh, but it did seem like the fight could go either way. 

Eventually, Julan did see what looked like an opening. Argrei over-committed into a thrust that Julan sidestepped, and it allowed him to step past his weapon, with nothing between him and Argrei's unarmored body. He thrust down towards Argrei's thigh muscles, though in a real fight, any number of lethal blows would have been possible. However, either as a display of adaptability or planning, Argrei was ready for it. Taking one hand off of his spear, he managed to grab a hold of Julan's blade without any major injury to his hand and pushed it just enough to the side to avoid being hit. At the same time, while Julan was focused on his own sword, Argrei managed to pull back his spear, then thrust it straight into Julan's left leg, almost hard enough to go clean through his calf muscles. 

There were a few cheers, and a few sympathetic gasps, from the crowd as Argrei pulled back his weapon and stepped back into a ready position. Julan did not yet feel the pain, but he quite involuntarily fell down to one knee. 

Zharanthixil let out a sigh. [i]"Well, at least the boy fought well..."[/i]

After taking such an injury, Zharan, and most of the crowd, clearly expected Julan to conceded. Most combatants in such a duel likely would, but to the visible and audible surprise of many, Julan slowly stood up, gritting his teeth in determination, despite the blood pouring down his leg. As a werecrocodile, he could endure more pain and injury than even most lycans.

[hr]

"Wait!" Ahnasha shouted back, though she was quick to continue before Rhazii could have time to get upset. "The spot where we left our things, go there and find my bag. There are healing potions inside. Take them and heal yourself; I won't follow you, I promise. I just don't want you to suffer anymore. I'll...go back to the bandit camp. Stay there a while; maybe...clean up the bodies. If I don't see you for a while, I'll go back to Cheydinhal. To the inn." 

Ahnasha winced as she looked away from Rhazii. The pain of her wounds was starting to catch up to her, but she would survive. Neither of their injuries were particularly threatening to a regenerating, disease-immune lycan, but she wanted to at least let Rhazii get rid of his pain. For herself, she felt she might deserve it. Regardless she started her slow walk back to the camp with a great deal to occupy her mind.