Khaylan nodded along with the healer's words. One with the same injuries as him? He discarded the idea as pure coincidence... or perhaps the healer was generalizing. Surely their couldn't be two people in the same village, who happened to take a crossbow bolt to the shoulder... within hours of each other. Still, he had this nagging feeling that crept along the back of his neck that there was more going on here than he truly understood.

Despite the healer's instructions he tried to rise twice more, almost making it to his feet each time before a wave of nausea and had him reaching for the edge of the bed to turn his fall into a more controlled lowering of his body. His mind felt fuzzy, an almost warm swimming sensation buzzing at the base of his brain. He wondered if perhaps the healer had drugged him because of the pain. He looked over at the clay pot, wondering if it was more drugs, or if perhaps it would help dispel the fog that seemed to lay over his mind like a heavy blanket. Hesitantly, he took the drink in hand, sniffing at it cautiously.

The concoction smelled awful, but it didn't smell anything like what Khaylan expected a poison to smell like. Besides, why fix up his shoulder just to kill him with poison? He took a sip of the drink, choking back bile as the horrid tasting substance slid down his throat. "Dirt... with more than a hint of sour beer. At least the woman knows her tastes," Khaylan muttered, keeping his tongue flat against the bottom of his mouth as he swallowed more, trying to get the substance down his throat without touching his tongue. When he finished the drink, he took a few deep breaths... and tried to stand once more.

He made it to his feet this time, although his balance was about the same as a man who had drunk a gallon of alcohol in only a few minutes. He reached out one hand and braced himself against the wall of the hut, half-feeling his way along to the door that led into the adjoining room. He could hear voices on the other side... perhaps his brother knights? The only way to know for certain was to emerge, and hopefully they could leave this whole event behind them.

His free hand seized the door, opening it slowly and carefully as he stumbled through. "I need a hor-," he began, but interrupted himself when he noted the occupants of the other room. He blinked several times in surprise, as though not sure what he was seeing was real. Why would Miranda be here?