She nods, turns her face back to his so she can look into his eyes again. Her hand drifts up to touch his face. She shares a memory of some kind of warming blanket and a thermos of soup that someone made her drink. She doesn't feel warm as she'd like, but then, she never does when she's among humans. She's grown used to always being a little cold.

"How is your arm feeling?"

Her hand curls along his jaw, barely touching him.