Barrow Fields if you see me floatin' too many times

He half-expects her to call him crazy and leave, so he's surprised to hear her confirm his suspicion in a few short words. In the breath between her words and his next, a million things flash through his mind. He wants to ask about their meeting, about her beach, anything to gain some sort of clue about his apparently chaotic past. He doesn't ask any of these things; the encounter sounds brief from her description, and inherent wariness makes him reluctant to reveal his amnesia without reason.
Well, don't tell anyone I wasn't always this pretty, He says instead, returning her hint of a smile. The expression fades as his attention returns to her wounds; if his subject-changing lacks stealth, he doesn't much care. Who did that to you? Or what, maybe, he thinks, resisting the urge to shudder. The wounds seem, at a glance, to be healing at least — but they speak of a vicious fight.