Blinking at that, Chas quirked an eyebrow, then, absently scratching his elbow, managed a tired smile. “Thanks.” No sarcasm, no nothing? Thankfully he was too drained to question much anymore.
All he wanted to do was flop facedown onto the bed and not move until it became necessary again for whatever reason. Maybe if the manor stood in flames, that would be worth getting up for. Maybe.
“Yeah, can do.” He was alright with whatever side as long as there was a bed, really. Sitting down on the edge of the bed with a tired but amused smile at that comment – sitting on the left side, of course – Chas got rid of his jacket, which was now torn in places anyhow, merely sparing a glance at the scratches and slowly forming bruises on his arms. Damn birds.
Neglectfully rubbings his arms, he turned his head to watch what John was doing. He had a pretty good idea what the carvings were for, and, quite sure the exorcist needed the rest more than he did, he tilted his head up. “Shall I?” He wasn’t practiced in anything like that, but he knew what he had read and was convinced he knew enough to at least carve a couple of words into wood.