[ For a moment, as Kim stares down at his leg, it is easy to see Kim as he was when he was young; there's something childish in his wide eyes, his mouth held slightly ajar, echoes of a skinny, knock-kneed who wants nothing more than the desperate belief that magic could be real.

Then the moment passes, at least externally. ]

I know I shouldn't be surprised by anything after everything we've already seen here, but... [ Kim bends his knee experimentally, unable to resist rubbing fingers almost reverently against the cured wound, the only visible remnant being the small patch of new, hairless skin it had left behind. He shakes his head, breathing: ] That's remarkable. Truly. This -- this is just normal to you? Is this how all medicine in your world works?

[ A beat, and a slightly sheepish smile. ]

Though before I start interrogating you, I suppose I should say -- thank you.

[ It was a small cut. But it's one less thing to nag at him, to bruise and to ache and to sting. It adds up. ]