[It’s like walking straight into the wake of a storm, and hoping that he isn’t caught in whatever remnants of crossfire are left. The mages stumbling past get a look from him that’s hard to parse, but there may be some sympathy in there — just a flicker.

He turns his attention back to Yennefer easily, though. He can’t blame her for feeling this way; he’s a terrible patient, himself, as he so vividly recalls in the days after his accident. Looking down upon all that tried to treat him, the doctors, the physical therapists, scrutinizing each and every scrap of advice like he knew better.]

If you had your way, you’d be up and on your feet in no time.

[Whether or not that’s true, he understands. Neither of them need to put words to what’s unspoken between them.]

I know you’re feeling like a caged animal, but try not to rush it. [Stephen Strange has to give a snippet of doctor’s advice, or else he’s a sorry doctor and friend, indeed.] Your body needs all the time you can spare so it can heal. That said…

[He strides closer, reaching into a pocket.]

I brought something for you.