Looks like none of them got to two this round- and that he can have such an offhand thought so easily is a good sign. Means things are still go'n smooth, that no one's too hurt and nothing's gone sideways all of yet. He jogs up to fetch his spear, crouching down to scratch Jayne's ears for a reward. A little bit of jerky keeps him from nosing about the templar corpses.

Bad stuff, that red lyrium. Regular stuff makes Mal's nose itch, always ends up causn'n no end of trouble. The red stuff don't much seem like it'd be any less. "We're good, Commander. Asher, you breath'n fine?"

Fretting. Small frets, but that cough...seems to be gone. Mostly. Sooner he's sure, the better.