Just when he'd been appreciating his lungs, they had started up slopes. He didn't have the shoes for this kind of activity although he was used to plenty of walking down lazy southern streets. Everything about this place hated him. John trudged on though, maybe he didn't want to be outdone by the kid playing their leader. He froze, not that he wasn't already freezing, at a sudden sound nearby. Adrian had also caught on and they were both looking at a bare chested cloaked man covered in, yes, that looked exactly like blood. At least he was laying down. It was unnerving to see the boy in front of him immediately go for his dagger but given the savage appearance of the man John didn't give it much more thought. "Just what we needed," he said quietly, stooping down near a tree and hoping the man didn't leap up and charge them. It came as a surprise when Adrian asked his opinion, of all present, for what to do, and at first he simply looked down and suddenly felt very self-conscious about his patchwork covered attire. "Do with him? I don't know, walk away?" He glanced at the man laying on the ground and, recalling how much noise he'd made laying there, realized that wasn't much an option. "Hold on to that dagger let me try something," John whispered with a grimace. He stood away from the tree and yelled to the man. "Hoy there! Are you in need of assistance, sir?" What a dumb thing to do, his blood ran cold waiting for the snarling and the battleaxes and the pillaging that would follow.