"Are you sure he's even learned how to speak in our tongue? Understanding it is different than being able to speak it." Madam Grindle questions, a common thing that would need clarification.
"Zu'u vis mindoraan hi pah tul, hi mindok?" Duin remarks as he sits there.
(I can understand you all still, you know?)
They could just ask him to say something, they were all in the same room with him. It felt weird that the others were talking to Madam Grindle yet when it came to something he would have to demonstrate, they spoke to her rather than him. It felt weird...uncomfortable in a strange way. A way he didn't know he could feel despite their good intentions. Yet something slightly akin to it felt familiar.
"Well lad, I don't know what you are saying." Madam Grindle replied as she directed her focus to him. "Would you be kind enough to demonstrate for us? It is no doubt uncomfortable so I understand if you have any apprehensiveness to the idea. But know that I will give you something to help ease your discomfort once I figure things out."
A small inhale of air left Duin as he sat there. It was oddly enough feeling like there was no choice on the matter...which was weird. This was meant to help and yet he was starting to just feel like it was the opposite way. Why this change? Was it just due to how the conversation was being handled?
"I ca..uff..." Duin started though once again his throat seized up on him and the feeling of nor air hit him, causing him to start coughing as was expected.
Rather than waiting for him to be done, Madam Grindle moved his chin up slightly and felt around the scar again. The sound of him coughing only worsened thanks to that and her pressing around the area but Madam Grindle seemed to make a sound before she rose from her spot and headed over to her herbs. Duin's breathing evened out by time she came over to him with a cup, it had various smells within it and he gave a conflicted look to the item as it was pushed to him. A obvious sign to take it.
"Something seems to be stuck in you're throat, I'm not sure where exactly but with any luck it's probably in your throat to where this can dislodge it." Madam Grindle explained.
Taking the drink, it tasted horrible and it burned on the way down. However, Duin dropped the empty cup as he felt a great deal of pain in his neck. A hand reaching quickly for it as blood started to trickle out of the corners of his mouth that quickly followed by him coughing and gasping far more violently. Hunching forward as he sat there, Duin continued to choke on something and blood would leave his mouth as he felt something moving around in his throat, pushing and twisting. Cutting as it went that only caused that painful fire in his neck to hurt more.
Madam Grindle had a very shocked look on her face, this wasn't how this medicine worked at all. The fact that blood was involved made her wonder if she somehow got it wrong in some way. But then the man started hacking, as if trying to spit something up and to everyone's surprise. A decent sized chunk of metal clinked against the floor as it bounced away from him; blood following it. Duin's coughing ended but he was still breathing heavily, the pain in his throat and the feeling of fire was growing stronger as his eyes watered. He felt like something else was in there but he had no words, he just needed air, all he wanted was air in his lungs.
There was also something else, his rust colored eyes were staring at his blood and even when/if one of the people picked up the piece of metal, he'd stare at where it had landed. The room changed to him, his eyes were met with the outdoors it looked. But that was quickly changed as he saw a large sword being swung toward him and blood spraying into the air. It was all in his head yes, but he sat there with raspy breathing as he tried to pull in more air.
If Kohl-Brenna picked up that piece of metal, she'd find it was thick. Thicker than a piece of silverware, no this was from a weapon. Not a silly dagger but a sword. And well, any warrior would know what the metal of their own blade would look like. Even if shattered during a fight and years later finding one of it's pieces.