The last of the group, another young beastman, one with wings, lay on the floor in the rubble of his chair. The boy, Jorgen, as he heard it, shuffled around him. He seemed concerned. He was short. The shortest here. He had feathers and scales, a tail too. He wore simple clothes, his shirt had a design on it, a claw Myer called it. 

Carrie came to his side as well, she took his arm and helped him up. He stood up. Didn’t do much more.

Carrie asked, “Are you okay?”

The winged beastman nodded, Ruach, “I think so-”