Well, then. Anduin nods, brow furrowing again a moment in renewed concentration.

"This may sting," he warns, and motes of light begin to gather around him. A gentle, ethereal glow that draws in then channels into his hands. Its hardly as strong as his gift is usually, but it is indeed better than nothing. The Light seeks to heal wounds, to draw out bruising and pain from John's face. It doesn't do so at its usual burning intensity, but it does burn.