Beaufort was far too proud to hold his hand to his mouth and cry in pain at the searing pain in his hand, swords were clearly not his thing. After all, what kind of man could cut his own sword hand. Clearly, despite the voice, the clothes and the hair, this pirate thing was not him. Ever. It was quite probably one of those park things.

He did, however, even as a pirate, know when to accept defeat. He left the sword on the floor, feeling somewhat betrayed by it, and got to his feet using his good hand, wrapping his hand in his shirt and gritted his teeth at Percy's taunting as well as the pain. "Alright, but one o' these days, I'll 'ave you, and I'll run ye through fer once. Yer gonna regret letting me go." Again, with the ballsy talk. Just go, Jean-Etienne. He turned and left, quickening his pace to find that new doctor. Who hopefully wouldn't laugh. Maybe he could tell him he was left handed.