[Once she gets close enough to see the vision for herself, Belladonna feels all the hairs on her skin rising. A chill goes through her and she hurries to look away, toward the wound.]
Here, I can help.
[Even her usually-smiling face is tight-lipped. All this trauma, this pain. There's no way she can smile; it would be wrong. And besides, this feels...private. Like she shouldn't be involved at all. But then, he shouldn't need to be reminded of something like this, either. Without really thinking about it, she inserts herself between him and the scene, aiming to block his vision from it as she reaches for his hand. If he lets her, she'll cup it between both of her own, and he'll immediately feel the magical warmth of her touch flow into his skin and begin to stitch the skin back together.]
no subject
Here, I can help.
[Even her usually-smiling face is tight-lipped. All this trauma, this pain. There's no way she can smile; it would be wrong. And besides, this feels...private. Like she shouldn't be involved at all. But then, he shouldn't need to be reminded of something like this, either. Without really thinking about it, she inserts herself between him and the scene, aiming to block his vision from it as she reaches for his hand. If he lets her, she'll cup it between both of her own, and he'll immediately feel the magical warmth of her touch flow into his skin and begin to stitch the skin back together.]