"Ah, christ. Christ on a cracker. That was some shit." Darran drops into a crouch when he gets near Aaron, keeping himself ready to spring up if something else nasty should come by. Most of his arms and big patches of his back and chest are still pink, but healing quickly. In an hour you won't even know he tangled with a lava hound.

Finally getting a good look at Aaron's werecoyote form, Dar grins in spite of himself. He can tell the other man is in a lot of pain, but-- he's a werecoyote! An ally!-- between the adrenaline spike and finding this out, he's too jazzed to stay somber. Besides, he'll heal. Shit, will he heal? Did the others? Damn everything, another thing he can't remember.

"Uh, I really hope werecoyotes heal fast, because I've got no healing gifts, sorry man. That was... someone else's job.

"But, hey! You're a werecoyote! That's awesome! My pack used to run with werecoyotes, they were cool dudes! (Yes, even Fallback.) I'm a werewolf, in case you didn't guess, but something about this place is fucking me up. I can't seem to shift up.

"Oh, uh... sorry to babble at you when you can't reply. Um. Do you heal? 'Cause I can try to go get you some help, but it seems a little dangerous to leave you here. Uhh... tap once for I should hang here with you, twice for I should get help, three times for I should get you the fuck outta here?"