[He startles a little -- can't help it, with how intent his focus on the monster had been, his usual awareness of the surrounds is that much the worse. And if he thinks of it, he knows his hearing is worse, like this, all his senses dulled like a blanket has been put over them, and it's grating, so grating, to think that he's used to it, has adjusted so that the lack of whatever the hell he got is making him feel like he's somehow less, now.]
... Nah. Ain't mine, to begin with. [And yet. And yet.]