Now there's a sentiment he understands a little too well.

Not that he's given much chance to dwell on the fact. Though the grief is evident, both in the woman's voice and her smile, she wastes no time in examining him once his leg is propped upon the table. The painful stretch of the torn muscle beneath his wound causes him to grit his teeth, though he makes no other noise or indication of his discomfort as she reaches for him. After all, it's far from the worst injury he's ever had, now. Not the worst pain he's felt, not by far.

And the warmth that follows comes as little surprise. She did say she was a healer, and he's no stranger to such magic. The warmth brings with it some relief, however fleeting the feeling is, and he lets out a soft sigh when she pulls away, only to raise a brow at the chastisement.

"For the things I've allowed to happen, I dare say I deserve more than just this," he murmurs, the bitter words less to the young woman than himself. But he shakes his head, raises a bandaged hand in an attempt to placate her before he continues. "It would have been my companion if I hadn't stepped in to save her, and it is a small price to pay to keep another young life from being cut too short."