"I am here, Micolash. Oh, no no, do not touch under your bandages." Abysa reaches over quickly to take hold of Micolash's wrist, noticing that he is about to pull or pick at his bandages. The line between grasping Micolash's thin wrist with enough force, but not overdoing it is frightfully thin, Abysa notes. He will need more than magic, perhaps, in the coming days.

"Your eyes are still in delicate condition. They will not heal right away. You have to be patient. Do you remember where you are?" He asks, keeping a calm tone.