[color=a36209]"Wait."[/color] Faolan held up a hand as the boy made to leave. It was clear there was something wrong; Faolan's own wound was not the only danger that floated around in the air. There was something wrong. Lucien's veins were pumping in his neck and chest, Faolan didn't have to know him long to pick that up. 

[color=a36209]"You said--"[/color] He grunted as he stood, pushing off against his knees and coming to a slightly wobbly standing position, [color=a36209]"--you needed help with something?" [/color] Maybe the same men who had attacked him had done something to the Frenchman. After all, they had waited until they were both alone to strike, it made sense. But he seemed untouched, unharmed. The only blood in the air was Faolan's own, and there were no obvious signs of a struggle aside from a slight rumple of his hair and clothes.