Limping along by sheer force of will alone, Zevran staggers between Anders, and Fate. The myriad of cuts still sting even after the healing and what he has in his system leaves much of the world a fog. The bloody smear that is the right side of his face angles in Fate's direction, lips moving in an Antivan mumble that is less coherent than he thinks.


Beyond- the shades scream and race for the group, the monstrosity itself? Temporarily stunned and caged by lightening, though that does nothing to stop it's bellowing fury.