Aspel/Li/Jareth
Of course she was well. In all his years of knowing her, even when they held any semblance of closeness, Li couldn't remember Aspel ever saying she wasn't. He had never been one to push beyond that lie either. That didn't change in this situation. A curt nod was given in answer to her query. He had done well in navigating the bedlam of falling debris and clamoring throngs of people. Out of the three, he was evidently the least injured.
The following talk of handling this business was again shunted aside in lieu of observing their surroundings more closely. Around them, the Mist held strong in the air, still thick and almost tangible in his lungs. If only it had cleared up fast enough for him to catch a glimpse of what had been causing this chaos, but alas. He would have to live without. Her lilting tone was what drew his attention back to the conversation, and gathering what she had asked, Li turned his gaze to Jareth.
A different time, a different place, and even then they would still meet her hand when she reached. With another nod, this one more slow and slight, he stepped over to Aspel. First came the matter of her injuries, and he raised an arm to wave a Cure over an exposed wound.