"Ah," John says, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the offer -- and immediately regretting the gesture.

"Not at all," he replies, reaching up and hesitantly reaching to start to undo the cloth. "Although I warn you, I am sorry to say it is not very pretty. What little I have been able to make of it, that is."

He has only been able to see himself in a mirror for the last day or so, and only then through his one good eye. As he removes the eyepatch from his face, his eye is revealed -- and it is a nasty injury. In truth, he can hardly move his eye, whether that is from the swelling or from the bruising or something more nefarious within the injury itself he does not yet know. But he would appreciate whatever assistance this young man might be able to provide, for it's more than he has had before.

"What is the prognosis?" he asks, a small smile twisting his lips as he does, well aware that it's probably not very good.