He felt something ache as he looked at her. So many burdens on people their age. So many that they shouldn't have had. The world was chaos. Their actions seemed almost laughably feeble in the face of the madness that had swept civilization up in its wake. He forced that melancholy aside and looked at his own hands, flexing his sore digits. "Y'know, this doesn't actually hurt all that much yet. I'll feel it tomorrow but for now it's okay." At mention of a washcloth he nodded, touching the base of his neck subconsciously, but her further offer made him pause. Her touch had been soothing--very much so. He stood upright and shrugged slowly. "I don't want to make you get up if you're comfortable, but I'm willing to try anything once. The pressure point treatment might be exactly what I need."