[ Armand's brows furrow at the question, but it's not confusion. He's concentrating, looking inward - as much as he really doesn't want to right now and would much rather be outside of his body - he considers what's been asked. The wounds on his back have barely knit back together, still damaged under the surface but no longer open sores. The scratches and claw marks elsewhere are still present, still felt, but mostly on their way to healing. Emotionally he's a wreck of a thing, but Lestat wants to know if his body feel's different... Ah, of course - The Blood.

Physically he feels less fatigued, feels warm from passing blood back and forth - not the unnatural heat of feeding from a mortal - but warm nonetheless. Perhaps there is a strength there, but he is old already, tempered by his master, by centuries of mortal blood and without Akasha's influence, Lestat is his junior in the blood.

It takes a moment, but slowly, Armand shakes his head. ]

I feel... healed? More so than I could have been with mortal blood and rest, but no change. [ He purses his lips, considering ] It is perhaps as I had guessed...we are diminished here - without her, there is nothing in me that is not already tempered by time that your blood could alter..