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Pleased with himself, the ends of those blue eyes crinkle into a true smile. It would be charming if there was no blood in his teeth, dried into a dark brown crust between his incisors. He looks handsome, in the you look like you've been through shit, tell me more, way.
He smooths his hair back, careful to avoid the poultice. What's your favorite season, then? The uncooperative ear is the furthest thing on his mind now. The last dredges of adrenaline had all but broken down in his system. It is on a post-fight buzz when Taylor can begin to relax. How characteristic.
Mhm. Evien must be tired, he thinks. Cleaner of other people's messes. Healer to a pack led by a warmonger. It sounds like a bad joke.
Eyes hooded, he studies the brown fuzz on Evien's cheek. Thanks, by the way. Really. Something twists where his stomach is, but not painfully. A pressure over his chest, untouchable.