[ He doesn't feel for a pulse, when he reaches her, because he can see her breathing. But he does pat her cheek—not in the gentle affectionate way, in the slightly harder, not-quite-slapping way meant to rouse someone who might be in some sort of coma. ]
Yyyyes, [ Alistair says, slowly, and then holds both hands out to her. Whether he's going to use them to lift her to her feet or to pick her all the way up depends on how well she cooperates. ] Right. Time to go see a healer.
[She starts to get up but can't seem to catch her bearings long enough to actually stand on her feet. More frightening still, she doesn't even seem that mad about it, something in her expression belying that she may not even be completely awake.]
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Mmh-- what-- stop it.
[She languidly slaps his hand away, but seems too tired to do much else.
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[ He’s easy to fend off, once he knows she’s capable of consciousness. ]
Are you sure you’re not just—you know. Sleepy?
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[She narrows her eyes at him, and seems to have trouble focusing.]
Did I call you here?
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