Swamped

Well. They're not going to tell you anything, so it doesn't seem to be worth much effort to keep them conscious. Although, you're a bit lacking in clean options for that right now - no lazy swampleaf, Mortimer's presumably still out of darts, and you're not sure they'd faint even if you dragged them over to Nocta.

You're not going to try punching them, though. You once tried to pull that with Crosswinds in a training session and they taught you very clearly not to underestimate a grebling just because you've got a grip on them. This one doesn't seem as well-trained, or they'd have thrown those mistflowers better. But you're still wary.

Before you can think further on it, though, the choice is made for you. Something suddenly falls from the ceiling, right onto the grebling's head. Their eyes close, and you hand them to Mortimer.

"Best get them to the clinic," you say. "And what I mean by that is, go back there yourself. If you've got anything else to take care of, tell me about it and I'll see what I can do."

"It was really just seeing what Setrus was up to, and retrieving that." Mortimer points at something with his free hand. You take a glance at it.