[Definitely. He winces slightly in sympathy, but doesn't press on it any longer than he has to. It might be a relief that the next part doesn't require nearly so much touching—or any at all, really.
His hands light, the faint white-blue glow of his magic illuminating the patch of clearing they're standing in, casting strange shadows across the angles of his face. His brows knit in concentration, and he carefully patches broken capillaries, wipes the bruise away from the outside in, lingering finally on that last, stubborn patch. It takes him longer to repair the fractured bone, but he's careful, methodical, and he manages it.
When he's finished, he lays his hand flat against where the bruise used to be, ostensibly to check to make sure November's ribs are all where they should be.]
Good as new. It would have been a mess to try and walk with that for too long. Maybe you're lucky you bumped into me.
no subject
His hands light, the faint white-blue glow of his magic illuminating the patch of clearing they're standing in, casting strange shadows across the angles of his face. His brows knit in concentration, and he carefully patches broken capillaries, wipes the bruise away from the outside in, lingering finally on that last, stubborn patch. It takes him longer to repair the fractured bone, but he's careful, methodical, and he manages it.
When he's finished, he lays his hand flat against where the bruise used to be, ostensibly to check to make sure November's ribs are all where they should be.]
Good as new. It would have been a mess to try and walk with that for too long. Maybe you're lucky you bumped into me.