Lightning? Guts looks at the sword, debating if he wanted to to go through the trouble of moving more than he had to just for a dumb souvenier. The rumble of thunder seems to push him to hurry up and make up his mind.

Once he's out of range of Safflower, his footsteps are a lot less steady than they were before the fight, but he manages to make it to Lashan to grab the sword and plop down on his knees near the bear's patchy forearm. He'll make something useful out of it, he tells himself, sitting there in the mud. The lighter blade works to cut tough tendons and cartilege. Sure. Something useful.

As he works he notes that the bear's paw was massive, much larger than his hand. And the claws were easily as long as his fingers. A set of proper knives that nature gave this thing. If it had connected properly with his body, he'd be long cold and dead. And for what?

He pauses, staring stiffly, before continuing. The wrist bone makes a cracking sound as he hammers down lightly with the pommel of the sword. Now they have some teeth and a paw. Lashan gets a miserable little side eye to indicate he was done, now properly soaked to his own bones.

"Let's get out of here already."