He looks rough. The wound may be small, but it's blackened and severely burned, nearly beyond recognition. The fire-spitter's bed was in the medical labs, part of the north side of Haven. The ward where we all kept vigil over the prone body of Xaedan was comfortable enough; Lightstones dot the walls and the windows were all open, a warm summer breeze causing the curtains to flutter gently. Kaixin rushes over, shoving aside me as she nears Xaedan’s side. Korvald stays by the door. "Has he done anything yet?" Tsukumi tersely shakes her head. "Out of the way, Kaixin, I'm not done yet." Deathmatch?