Arthur certainly wants to fight, but his body refuses to obey the distress signals his mind is trying to send, and the change in position makes his head spin - when the cloth is dropped on his face he can only try weakly to shake his head, and he feels it get corrected with embarrassing ease.

"I want to leave," he groans, his voice muffled and distant even to his own ears. "If we- 'f we can't do it on our own then- I-I thought that... the locals would, that we could use them, I..." He tries to jerk his head again, like the motion will help him wake up.