"He's alive," Neville supplied, squinting at the new light she'd handed to him. "I knocked him out, but I didn't kill him, that's for sure. Maybe I should've..." He trailed off, took a long drag, then exhaled his next statement. "There was nothing remarkable about him, I hate to tell you. He was plain, short brown hair and pale skin, with no discernable marks to identify him." He choked on a forced laugh. "Well," Neville added. "Now he might have one."