"I am sure he will be fine," she waved a dismissive hand, lazily reigning it back in and letting her fingertips tap out a silent beat along her jawline. "At least he will have no complaints, I'm thinking."
Bit difficult for a comatose man to complain, all things considered. What with all the lack of independent motion and speech.
"Can I be blue? Or purple?" her head cocked. "No. Just green - and back again. I can sing, though. I do sometimes, if children ask. And they always call me a mermaid, so I cannot mind too much."