Though his gaze doesn't leave the young woman - still studying her mask, the clothes she wears - his brow goes up at the question. And it's an understandable question to ask, certainly, and his answer follows just as quickly.

"They've been tended to." Sort of, at least. Severa had certainly done her best in tending to them, though she was no trained chirurgeon. And perhaps he should have had the Alliance's people look them over after, but he'd be hard-pressed to say that he's willing to trust them with his own well being, even now.

But the young woman's concern is palpable. And that sliver of guilt tugs again, more insistent, when he realizes how curt the words sounded.

His expression softens, and with a soft sigh he shakes his head, reaching out to gently take one of her hands, so he may press her marker carefully back in it.

"I do appreciate the offer, of course, but you needn't waste any resources on me. They'll heal, with a little time and rest, miss...?"