A voice cuts in through the haze of pain and darkness, and for a moment he's a child holding a spear, listening to Yara inform him of the main danger for any fighting with said weapon.

He's aware that he's dying, but he's also suddenly aware that besides his memory of Yara, someone else remains near him. The accent sounds strange, the words nearly another language. It sounds like whoever the man is, he's going to help.

Theon sucks in a wet breath.

"Padding," he croaks. "Hold me still."