Rab turned, then noticed the blood on the floor and walked quickly over to his friends side. He took his hand gingerly, fingers barely tracing the cuts across his palm. Deep, but no tendon damage. He cast his wordless healing charm, watching the hand seal itself. It closed more fully than Rodophus' had, but still looked angry and painful. He pulled his shirt off silently, not looking Amycus in the eye, wet it with a small jet of water from his wand. He wiped the blood away carefully, then turned his attention to Ams face. He touched the bruises, then cast the charm. They faded slightly, looking a few days old compared to fresh and new, and Rabastan once again wished he was better at these sorts of things. A competent wizard would have made them disappear completely. He lifted his shirt, wiping the blood of Ams face, then let his hands drop to his sides. He wanted to shout, to demand an explanation, but he couldn't. He didn't have any words for this.
"Y-y-you need a p-pain p-p-p-potion," he muttered, pushing himself to stand and turning for the door. "H-hold o-on."