Work Text:
Lykon gasps, reviving, which cracks his parched lips. He licks away the trickle of blood as they heal. Sometimes, being a god-touched hero is uncomfortable. He rolls onto his back and hears the last of his ribs pop into place. He sits up, swears at the broken shaft of his spear, checks his surroundings - safe - and his belongings. Besides the damaged spear, he took no lasting injury. He flicks the pendant that Andromache made. It pings cheerfully, unharmed. Not bad, for a man who took an elephant to the chest! He hops up and sets off to find his companions.