He laid on the table, stomach down. A grimace was on his face, light rumbling could be heard as he breathed slowly. The room he was in seemed to sway ever so slightly back and forth, trackable only by the movement of the lit candle sitting in a tray that hung from a rafter above him, lighting the small, cluttered room enough to see all the puncture wounds and burn marks that freckled the man. "They sure looked like they did a number on you, Captain," a cheerful sounding Bidoof spoke, grabbing a piece of shrapnel from the Walrein's arm and tugging it out of its place. Waldo winced, then looked at smaller pirate, boredom replacing the grimace.