"Oh" he says, eyes barely open, "Well, nice to meet ya Zaida."
Immediately following this, Galen succumbed to sleep, resting his head of the stone floor in total exhaustion following the events of the past days of chaos and near-death.
He dreamt of nothing at all, his sleep consuming his mind and replacing thought with the perfect calm of rest.
The gunshot, far off by the island's rolling shores, was barely acknowledged by his deadened mind.
(Good night, legitimately this time. Best of luck.)