He'd been ready to press him further, ask him another question--anything to distract from the stitching. The stitching was a different kind of pain, at least, sharp points instead of a wide, stretching throb.
Then Shiloh spoke, and Shane watched him, the strangeness of the moment taking him outside himself. He had no idea what a Dacian was, nor who he was referring to by the farmer and shepherd, but the mention of claws caught his attention.
"What?" was all he could really muster in the wake of it. His face had gone so blank as he spoke that it prickled along Shane's spine.