If she pays attention to his face, she'll watch his heart warring with his mind. Intellectually, he finds the unveiling of this mutilated hand fascinating, the researcher in his wanting nothing more than to figure out how this destroyed appendage continues to function. Meanwhile, the gentle man inside Dorian, the one who cherishes Alleyana as his closest and dearest friend, is experiencing second-hand heartache at the state of it.

Obviously a very old collection of injuries, he can only lament her not having access to a gifted spirit mage. A true healer could have done, well, something at least. Nuts and berries did nothing to heal torn flesh or set shatter bones.

It took effort to pull his eyes from it and meet her eyes, and years of practice to smile amicably in the face of it.

"It's just a hand, you know. One, admittedly, that has seen it's undue share of abuse, but a hand, nonetheless." He looked back down, moving back to her side and crouching there. "I'll be gentle."