They are not the first such wounds Dain has seen, which helps a little with his initial reaction. It's different, always different, when the victim is not a stranger. He stands behind Lorne, one hand in the air as though he had an arrested thought of touching the angry red welts, a thought which never fully makes it to consciousness.

Damn. If only there were something more he could do. He can't, he knows that -- even were it safe to choose a side, it certainly wouldn't do Lorne or the village any favours -- but still, the wish exists.

With his initial emotions acknowledged and set aside, Dain looks over Lorne's back with a more objective eye. "Not as bad as it could be," he concludes, surprised. "I didn't think the commander would pull any punches."