Snapping out of his semi-daydream, Lewin turned around and found himself a bit refreshed. The wine, and the calming chant to the elements, had brought some colour back to his face. He nodded brisquely at Anastasia and went over to Fossil, unceremoniously and rougher than necessary examining her ribcage. Locating the broken ribs, he fetched a splint from his robe, looked the courier dead in the eyes, and rose the splint in front of her face.<span style="color: #808040">"Bite it. This is going to hurt, and I'd rather you don't bite your tongue off."</span>He offered no explanation as to what exactly he was going to do, but it didn't sound like he would brook any arguments on the matter.