The light suddenly in his eyes comes like a stab -- as though someone has suddenly driven a blade between her ribs. Twisted. Her breath shivers in her lungs as a murmur, small and involuntary, comes to her lips.

And then it's gone. Her arms curl around the little spirit. Holds it closer, her face temporarily obscured by a dark curtain of hair.

Until Wan's voice interrupts her, asking again. Her muscles tighten; she almost turns away. Instead she stands without breath, held taut between two choices.

"What will you do?"

She isn't asking about healing. It's a repetition of the same question as before.