a voice would attempt to reach out to the Coyote. his head was throbbing, his eyes glossy, vision blurred from a searing pain in his side, teeth grit behind the copper visor of his helmet. Red couldn’t keep his eyes open, clamping them shut for a moment, he wasn’t dying, far from it, he still had some business to attend to. a boot would gently nudge his side, prompting the old Hunter to groan, a hand moving to the area that had been touched by the foreign object. “ ..’m fine, jus’ gimme a moment.. ” He’d reply, a groan managing to slip through his scarred lips, his tone sounding weak, though it only may be temporary. the old Hunter would place his hands onto the earth, slowly working his way up from his prone state, a groan slipping through the cracks of his grit teeth once in awhile, during movements that looked tight, uncomfortable for him to be forcing to move.
as he’d get up to his feet, standing up straight, his hand would idly rest onto the grip of his handcanon, taking a readied position, although, his condition seems to be rough, rusted like an old machine.