[He nods a bit at that, as much to acknowledge as to just...reset himself; this is a little easier now that the adrenaline is starting to settle, there's still the deeply unpleasant feeling of hunger starting to pulse through his system, which isn't pleasant but the sooner he deals with the source the more that will subside. So without any further pauses and literally no hesitation once he starts, he pulls the rest of the arrow through - it's as hard and as quickly as possible, which is... He's surprisingly strong, actually? Moreso than one would think, and as soon as the offending protrusion is out of the way he's quick to drop it on the floor and settle his hands over the wounds, entrance and exit alike.

What follows is a likely uncomfortable feeling of skin closing in on and over itself, musculature starting to shift and knit back together, the fire of nerves coming back alive. It's not an immediate fix, and it's likely this is going to feel like it takes a small eternity, but a small eternity is better than nothing at all.]

No one has shot me, so it's not like I know whether I can or not. Possibly...? Probably.

[There was a reason he waited until the healing process began to start talking again.]

The last time I died it was a seizure. I had a progressive brain disease. I woke up five minutes later. The first time I was bleeding out, and that obviously didn't stick.

So I meant what I said. I'm hard to kill.