Salem's eyes widened for a brief second. In his heart, he'd known as soon as he'd fired that his aim was off- it was one of the instincts he'd managed to pick up over the years of marksmanship. And yet, there, on his display, was confirmation of a hit.
He only had a second to wonder before he noticed Rathien taking aim in his direction. Of course. He'd given away his position. But he realized too late. There was no time to move, only time to watch, as the sapling he was holding onto exploded. He was sent tumbling to the ground, still holding a chunk of tree trunk in his left hand, his copper weapon skittering away in the dirt and coming to a rest at the base of the large tree he'd been hiding in moments before.
Salem's broken right leg screamed in pain. Luckily, he came to rest on his left side, but his vision dimmed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth against the pain. If it hurt this much through the painkillers in his system, the damage must be severe.
When he opened his eyes, he was facing the hollow of the tree. There was his weapon, and behind it, something blue... an Illusor? Salem chuckled. What were the odds that both he and Al had chosen the same tree as a hiding spot? He must have been practically sitting on it when he was in the tree, but hadn't noticed it. The thought made him laugh even more.
When Rathien called out, asking what he'd been shot with, Salem started to break down into a fit of giggles, which quickly transformed into a hoarse, retching fit of coughing. Each cough sent a sharp spasm of pain through his leg and his chest and his throat, but he didn't bother trying to change positions. Somehow, while he was still coughing, he wound up laughing in thought-speak, directed at Rathien. It was a crazed, giddy laughter that only lasted a few seconds.
<<That,>> he said, as the coughing subsided, <<is a minor procedure. We're linked now, hunter. Modified nanites. Keyed in to my vital signs.>> He paused as he coughed for another few seconds, finally finding the strength to prop himself up on one elbow. He was still invisible. Funny how hard it was to tell exactly what was injured when you couldn't see it.
<<If they detect an end to my vitals, they melt you from the inside out. I hear it's a very unpleasant way to go.>> His breathing was shallow... his ears ringing... his head pounding... An image of a hospital he'd stayed at flashed into his mind... of a patient struggling, refusing his medication, having to be restrained...
<<You are one of the least well-behaved patients I've ever heard of. Think how much smoother that would have gone if you'd just sat still.>>