These weren't signs of a struggle, no effort on Zevran's part to get away or simply some ill effects from being bound improperly. Taking some of the spirit out of him with torture, maybe?

His fingers followed the arc of blood along the ground, just past stickiness and starting to absorb into the ground. His nostrils flare quietly as he examines the ends of the rope. Neatly cut. A very sharp blade, or a heavy one.