Lia works smoothly and easily. When he grips her hand she grips back, more gently, trying to soothe him without words and without moving too much. Her heart hurts whenever he makes a sound and she can pause enough to make a sound, reassuring, or to lift their joined hands up so she can brush his hair with her fingertips.

She hasn't healed like this very much. But she has sat with many an injured man or woman. She has nursed her brother through the worst of his childhood illnesses and that is what she draws upon now.

"God does not discriminate on the basis of belief. The psalms might, but they seem more particular to who uses them than who they are used on." Lia smiles lightly, a bit tiredly. "I am fine. My mind strayed and the verse wanted to remind me that it deserves my full attention."

Her fingers touch his arm again, and it feels better. The flesh is warm and alive. There is the buzzing of a psalm beneath his skin. "Hold still with me. It will finish the work. The arm may be a bit weak but it should be healed and will improve."

His words startle a laugh out of her because holy hell indeed. "The verse must think you a good man who needs your arm."