If he must unfairly press what minor advantage he has in their dynamic to ensure that Devin takes some small steps to better care for himself, then that is a manipulation the Fool is prepared to engage in. When Devin at last relents, the Fool's expression softens some, and he returns his attention to his supplies, unscrewing the top of the arnica canister and examining the contents.
"If I am displeased by anything," he replies dryly, "it is only that you look as though you have been keel-hauled."
He warms both of his hands within the basin of water, then neatly dries them off before dipping two fingers into the arnica salve. When he turns to face Devin again, he stops short at the sight and extent of the angry bruising extending across his torso. His initial dismay at Devin's state doesn't resurface on his face; instead, something subtler that speaks to deep, unresolved pain twitches at the corners of his lips, at his eyes. A slow breath, in and then out, before he gestures to Devin's arm.
"Lift it," he murmurs, "as much as you are able." Then he comes to kneel at Devin's side, and gently smooths the arnica against one of the angriest bruises blossoming across his battered ribcage.
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"If I am displeased by anything," he replies dryly, "it is only that you look as though you have been keel-hauled."
He warms both of his hands within the basin of water, then neatly dries them off before dipping two fingers into the arnica salve. When he turns to face Devin again, he stops short at the sight and extent of the angry bruising extending across his torso. His initial dismay at Devin's state doesn't resurface on his face; instead, something subtler that speaks to deep, unresolved pain twitches at the corners of his lips, at his eyes. A slow breath, in and then out, before he gestures to Devin's arm.
"Lift it," he murmurs, "as much as you are able." Then he comes to kneel at Devin's side, and gently smooths the arnica against one of the angriest bruises blossoming across his battered ribcage.