would that I could

Dabbing the blood from his lip, Isla smiles up at him and reaches up to brush an errant curl out of his eyes, as if she can cheek him up just with her presence. She can't of course, but she still feels bad for all that he's been through - even the things he's arguably put himself through. "There's something quietly infuriating about not being able to hurt someone who's hurt you," she agrees. "I imagine that's part of the reason the Ascended are so hated." Absently she swats at him, as if to tell him to stop licking at his lip, dabbing at it a few more times before straightening back up so she can examine the rest of him. Her cool hands press gently at his throat and his abdomen, her brow furrowing as she concentrates a little more. "It doesn't look like there's any lasting damage, but with you, I'd be surprised if there was. How do you feel?" Isla the flesh is weak