[ His eyebrows push up slightly, then crinkle inward as she shifts, stands, strolls around him with that discerning eye. Yes, he looks terrible, and he feels at least as bad: though whatever magic or technology that had brought him had healed him — slightly — he's still in bad shape. Two large wounds are visible in his torso, torn into his uniform and flesh front and back, as though whatever had struck him had gone straight through. One is a little lower than the other, stabbed through his left side; the other was struck true, through the center of his chest. Neither are actively bleeding, but he can feel how delicate the mend is. Any sharp, too-fast movement could open one or both again.
He turns his head to watch her as she circles him, uncertain, flushing slightly at her observations. The very last thing he feels like right now is the stuff of afternoon fantasies. ]
Are you... do you know what you're doing?
[ Keeping to his feet for the moment, less out of stubbornness than wariness. She says examine him but what could that possibly entail, set as they are on this strange platform so high above the ground? He still has the little statue in his hand as he shuffles in a circle, turning as she moves around him. ]
Are you actually a healer, or just an interested party?
[ What she is, he thinks, is someone unused to hearing the word no... or maybe someone who simply does as she will, regardless of petty stumbling blocks like etiquette or the fact that they are perfect strangers.
Maelle would like her, he thinks, a shadow of a smile touching the corner of his lips. She's just as stubborn, if less grown into it. ]
no subject
He turns his head to watch her as she circles him, uncertain, flushing slightly at her observations. The very last thing he feels like right now is the stuff of afternoon fantasies. ]
Are you... do you know what you're doing?
[ Keeping to his feet for the moment, less out of stubbornness than wariness. She says examine him but what could that possibly entail, set as they are on this strange platform so high above the ground? He still has the little statue in his hand as he shuffles in a circle, turning as she moves around him. ]
Are you actually a healer, or just an interested party?
[ What she is, he thinks, is someone unused to hearing the word no... or maybe someone who simply does as she will, regardless of petty stumbling blocks like etiquette or the fact that they are perfect strangers.
Maelle would like her, he thinks, a shadow of a smile touching the corner of his lips. She's just as stubborn, if less grown into it. ]