Mike lays the shotgun on the table and goes behind the counter, coming back with a well stocked first aid kit. He hands this to John and prepares to help.
Jacob's coat is torn, as if by swipes of claws, and his arm and chest underneath it scored by slashes. John starts disinfecting them as best as he can, bandaging them afterward. Jacob endures this silently, his lips pressed firmly together.
Clarissa collapses into a booth, leaning heavily back against the seat.
A small gasp and Ray jolts upwards, spilling some of the coffee on her lap. "Wh-who--OW!" She tremblingly drops the cup on the table and looks around, clearly not focused on anything.
Larry pats Ray's hand. "It's Jacob and Clarissa, and they look like they've been through a war."