He finds himself staring back at her as the vision releases him, taking in this older version of the woman he'd seen. Private lessons and good quality equipment, even if he hadn't recognized the exact style she'd been learning. A noble, perhaps, or someone from a wealthy house.

Something like wry acknowledgement flickers through his expression as he takes in the clear signs of recent pain. "Are you alright?" As much as any of them are at the moment, he supposes.

And then motion out of the corner of his eye reminds him that they're still standing in the middle of the street, and starting to attract curious eyes. One eyebrow arches towards the woman in question as he tips his head slightly towards a clearer area, out of direct traffic. A better place to talk, if nothing else.