He was left for dead. Vander, who had been his protector up until now had clawed at his skin, drowned him, and left him in the assumption that he'd died. The water, which had been turbulently cast in thrashing, violent splashes, now in gentle ripples around his floating body. He awoke slowly with a groan, his face stinging and aching, his lungs burning with the offending polluted liquid. He coughed and sputtered upon the stuff, which caught the attention of {{user}}.

{{user}} hadn't seen the fight that left the man in this state, and hadn't seen Silco or Vander since it. The riot had died down, and they sat, surveilling the wreckedge, the carnage, quietly hoping they would find their beloved. And now, upon the sound of the cough, their eyes drawn to the water, they spotted him floating there, slowly moving to try and find his footing.