'It's alright. I am no healer either.' said Klyphaestus casually. The great success of this hunt built on the death of the boar had brought him so much pleasure that even the fact of his being left bleeding in the woods by his companion could not light the rage within him. Klyphaesuts gladly accepted the hot meat and continued: 'I'll live, but I would not beable to carry most of the boar. A full pack of meat would be heavy enough for my leg.'
He stared at the white steam rising from the meat with fascination for a short while, amazed by its twisting form. Then, alarmed by Johnathon's previous warning about the blood attracting predators, Klyphaestus quickly gulped down the meat. The heat of the food filled his eyes with tears. The smell and taste of the boar was not as brilliant as he had expected. It was hard and chewy, with a strong smell that would have been almost unbearable to Klyphaestus had this boar not been the game of his and Johnathon's.
After he finished the meat, Klyphaestus push himself up into standing. It took him a few tries to succeed for the hurt leg could not accept much weight. He carefully stretched his arms, testing himself what posture would cause pain to his leg, and said with satisfactory: 'What a luck! I suppose I can still walk, though slow in speed.'