Castor sits down heavily, uncaring of the water lapping up around her. That attack took more out of her than she'd anticipated, and her entire body feels like she's been encased in hot lead. Her punching arm especially is numb to the core, and she can barely even lift the thing to inspect it.

"I don't..." she coughs, trying to chase away the sounds of weakness and strain in her voice, "I don't suppose I could borrow one've ye medic types?"