[Two minds on their presents, now. He shifts searching eyes away.]

You should do whatever you’re comfortable with; if that means lying down for you…

[However he wants to. The youth trails once he’s settled, and with eyes closed lightly, his hand to his shoulder, he passes him light with calmed focus, calling up winds on purified spellworks and willpower. His healing’s meditative.] I’ve never healed anyone like this before. Using the flowers. [Making it special… His own panacea of spotted fungus, wild herbs and dried petals. He’s eaten nothing besides this, made his blood a thick medicine, pure and potent as soft-white winds create his own shifting currents, sharing his own rising energy. Pouring the glow into him. His worried smiling’s still anxious.]

You could think of it like an antidote. [Warming golds over him.] But you should tell me if you’re hurting again. I always injure more than heal these days…

[Disasters and flowers; still on his mind now.]

I don’t think that’s a proper samurai, though.