Falcon doesn't come round until a good deal later, and even then everything seems blurry. He raises an arm, groaning as the movement triggers a lance of pain through his throbbing head. Managing to wrestle one eye open, he can only see blurry outlines of people moving about. Muffled voices reach his ears, but none of the words are discernable. His head throbs painfully, but he manages to manouvre himself into a sitting position, elbows shaking alarmingly.
What happened? he asks himself, how long have I been out? What's going on?
The next thing he knows, Eternal is at his side, peering at him concernedly. He manages a weak grin, but it soon turns to a grimace as his head continues to throb.
"Ouch." he says, knuckling his forehead with one hand and supporting himself with the other. "I feel like I've been run over by several angry bulls. Very fat angry bulls."
Eternal giggles, "I'm hardly surprised."
A wail of pain comes from the other end of the room. Falcon turns to see several people pinning down a struggling man while one of them attempts to sew up a wound. Someone clouts the man over the head and he stops moving. Dane detaches himself from the group, rubbing his elbow and muttering angrily. Falcon can see he's limping, but otherwise seems unharmed. Dane slopes over to them and sprawls inelegantly against the wall:
"Awake at last," he says to Falcon, "Took you long enough."
Falcon laughs, "Glad to see you too Dane." Then he becomes more sober, "How many?"
"'Bout a dozen or so, can't be sure. Most of the women and children, people who couldn't fight. Bastards." Dane sighs and looks over at an increasing number of sheet-covered forms at the other end of the room. Falcon sees them and suddenly feels saddened. So many, and for what? He looks to Eternal,
"So, what happened?"