*can only shake her head distractedly, when she hasn't the focus to spare for things like doesn't Námo have a little girl or two by that name? and the cold knot that seizes her middle when she tries to see past this present*
*is utterly unsurprised when her orders are contradicted (really, who was she fooling?), but even your touch and reassurance cannot erase the worried frown stitched across her features* *lays her hand over yours at her shoulder and gazes into your eyes for a long moment*
*finally* I am going to see to that cut personally. And if I think for one moment that you're more badly hurt than you think you are (unbreakable you, silly man), I will drag you to the hospital myself. *her mood softening somewhat* You may want to call your daughter. I left her in a hurry.