[He lets his head drop down even lower, trailing gently over his side and stopping over the wound, brushing away the bandages as he examines it-- still an ugly red, the magic he used before not having been enough, his attempt at concealing his identity meaning that he couldn't use it at its full capacity.
There's only the slightest hesitation before bends his neck, licking over the wound, cleaning it from the dried blood and slowly letting the magic in his breath seep in, healing it.]