Elias couldn’t help himself; stoic as he would like to be no matter the wound, the healer touching his hand - even gently - had produced a sharp pain shooting through it, which worried him that this might be more severe than he had supposed. He hissed softly in spite of himself. Surely whichever bones he’d crushed in the fall were only fractured and nothing was broken, though? But of course she would be able to mend a break in no time, too? He needed his hands. Obviously, who didn’t, but - Elias needed his hands to work. Desperately, really.

He chuckled to try and cover up the tension in his face from the pain in his hand, and returned to the redhead’s questions, still trying to discern why he might remember her. “Well, that makes me sound like a madman, but yes, I suppose -” Elias explained, with a rueful grin. “It was the lesser of two evils, really. Time took me - er, unawares -” (this day was terribly strange in that regard) “- so if I hadn’t jumped, I expect someone might now be scraping my remains off a tree,” he finished cheerfully.

So, all in all, a few cuts and bruises and an uncomfortable collision with the ground might be a good result. (But he really would like use of his hand again.)

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