He gives Cade a moment, half a moment to adjust to the sting, to say something- when no word comes and the initial blow has had time to sink in and truly needle at nerves? Zevran swings again, striking the opposite shoulder with neat symmetry. Not as precise as dagger work- but he was well acquainted with leather and how it moved, and this is a favored tool for those he kept company with that enjoyed such things.

True to his word there is that same space of time for the sting to sink in before he brings the cat across both patches of reddened skin, crossing over the abrasions. Then? "How are you doing, Cade?"