Without a sound, the Jamoura reached up to feel at his throat. When the dagger had entered, he had passed out almost instantly, his body's response to the massive amount of pain and shock. He had been out for a while, and now, he was just waking.
Feeling at his throat, the Jamoura's eyes widened. He could feel the hole where the dagger had entered, and it was still bleeding. Feeling inside his bag, Al'jaroth brought out a cloth and pressed it firmly to the wound. He would need more help than that soon, because the wound wouldn't close without help. All the cloth would do was staunch the bleeding some.
As it was, the Jamoura decided to lay there for a minute. The guards and trappers were gone, and he couldn't see the young man who had tried to stop him. He couldn't even see the city gates. All he could see was the sky and some of the trees nearby.