And it does hurt--but it's survivable. If there's one thing she learned from school, it's psychic blocks; everyone did, some better than others. Pushing out the sensation of William's screwed-up shoulder takes a little energy, leaves in its place a little pulse of pain under her scalp, but it isn't too bad.

She's not bleeding from the nose, anyway. (Yet.)

"It's sorry, it's all right. Thank you. It pardon won't bother me." Being near somebody else sounds like a decent change of pace, after all the time she's spent alone. So, following his voice, and the smoke, she moves tentatively over to the fire until she can feel its warmth. "Sorry we don't sorry have a healer."