"In fact, if we turn this ferry into a funeral pyre for Oleg, the one who first manned it, that might throw our pursuers off course and make them think we're dead! I hate to sound grotesque and morbid, but the stench of burning flesh might convince them..."
Tael looked over to her, and then looked at himself. Putting his armor plates back on, he noticed that his wound was still bleeding. Need medical supplies., he thought. However, he saw most of the others off of the ferry, and he knew that there wasn't enough time for him to rummage around the cargo looking for medical supplies. He winced to himself, as he clambered off of the raft, watching as Per'dra burned the raft and sent it downstream.
He began to feel dizzy, and he knew that becoming unconscious would be fatal. Despite the injury not being life-threatening at the moment, it could gradually become a serious problem within 10-20 minutes, even before shock sets in. He strode next to Per'dra.
"Do you happen to have any medical supplies with you?", he sputtered, his breathing becoming abnormal. Unbeknownst to him, when he pulled the arrow out of his chest, part of the arrow tip tore into his left lung. Not a severe tear, but a tear nonetheless.
The funniest thing about this sentence is that by the time you realize it doesn't say anything it's too late to stop reading it.
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