There is a peculiar scent to him, normally hidden under the fragrances of the herbs and spices he always carries and works with but detectable up close like this; a strange, earthy smell, like open, rainwashed soil.

Holding her the way he is, her head tucked in under his chin, he has to crane his neck to peer down at her. "Dear lady, with how you have been pushing yourself I am not so sure I shall not think you are merely jesting."

His rubbing of her back had halted just for a moment but he resumes it now, in slower, less vigorous and more comforting strokes. He breathes a sigh, closing his eyes and letting some of the tension drain from his body. She will be alright, with time and care. He will make sure she gets both.

"Try if you can to not dwell on the rifts. They will still be there when you have recovered and is better able to see to them."