No Questions Asked

He swayed and stumbled, catching himself before fully hitting the earth with his face. The disorientation was similar to a concussive blow to the head - he felt a wave of pain near the back of his skull, a catch in his throat like bile wanting to come up, and the sounds around him were murky. So when Scimitar reacted and called out to him, Tryphon did not immediately respond. He heard the word as if it were spoken through a wall; as if ocean waves were crashing around him, or a conch shell was held close to his ears. There was no recognition to the word itself - but Tryphon did lift his head and turn a flustered, confused look towards the noise. 

The boy rose up to half-height, his tail naturally curling against his hocks, and looked at Scimitar as if he was seeing him for the first time - and also not. His eyes narrowed. "Who are...?" He started to slur, but then sort of.. Tripped. Falling softly sideways due to his disorientation, resting like a lump upon his round belly's side. "I don't... My head, it hurts..." He sighed, slumped, and lay prone upon the ground - one limb awkwardly raising and crossing over his snout, as if to hide.