Drawn to the commotion, a fellow injured survivor stumbled up beside Gunnar. He was a Gith-something and looked lucky to be alive let alone standing. Dry blood smeared his tattered cloak, scratches and bruises lined his exposed skin, and while hard to tell, he looked pale in the face. His eyes appeared to not be fully focused as he gazed emptily in the direction of the noise.

“Wha, what is happening? What’s going on?”

He asked on dry raspy breaths, clearly still dazed and confused.