He staggers after her, his knees shaking and a trail of blood drops and a few smeared bootprints in his wake. The red fog has begun to clear, but there is still the pain, mindless and terrible, both from the damage the blight has done to his body and...the other sort. The wounds left behind when Nyarlathotep coiled around his soul. When Drelasa guides him to sit on the ground Shen Qingqiu nearly falls, and then coils up around her clinging and sobbing quietly.

He has always had a high pain tolerance, but this...this is too much to be borne.