"My thanks, doctor..." he said as he was helped to his feet and to the bed. The man, waving the Roe's hand away politely, climbed slowly onto the cot with a groan. It was an agonizingly slow process, and though he was grateful for the assistance, he felt that he needed to try to help himself to receive help. That was how it was, and always had been for him.Â
As Naranbaatar heard Catharine voice her concerns over Dyrsteyn's handling of him, he could hardly help but to laugh, albeit with a pained cough midway through.Â
"Doctor, you needn't worry too much about such things. If I can survive a blast of my own magic, I daresay I shall be all right if I am dropped onto such a soft cot."
As Naranbaatar heard Catharine voice her concerns over Dyrsteyn's handling of him, he could hardly help but to laugh, albeit with a pained cough midway through.Â
"Doctor, you needn't worry too much about such things. If I can survive a blast of my own magic, I daresay I shall be all right if I am dropped onto such a soft cot."
