Pain level: ambiguous. She'll check again later.

The warm-water stone is ready; she teleports it to the basin, waits another minute for it to heat the water, and then takes the sponge and gets started cleaning him off. She starts with his shoulders, wringing a little bit of water onto them as a warning before gently dabbing at them.

That wakes him, though he tries not to make it obvious. What are they doing? Wax? Metal? The skin's just going to get infected - not that it really matters, he is fairly sure Moringotho's personally ensuring his continued life...

Dab dab, dab dab. Her humming's keeping time with his breathing, now that she's close enough to see it, without her particularly noticing that she's doing so.

After a few minutes, she pauses to trance and check on him again.

Conscious, exhausted, in terrible pain, terrified of her but in sort of distant abstract way.

There's not very much she can do about most of that, but if he's awake she can at least introduce herself. She lets her claws click on the stone floor as she moves to sit where she can see her, with the just-rinsed sponge in her lap, then stops humming and makes a louder questioning noise.

He shudders even though it hurts to do so.

She winces, sympathetically, and tries again.

It's trying to introduce itself. Possibilities: it's another prisoner in his cell, or a new creation of the Enemy's, or a psychological game that involves him coming to believe one of those things only to later somehow be betrayed.

Nonetheless.

Hello. What's your name?

..........

Well that's, uh, straightforward.

"Kobold."

Kobold, he says seriously, as if this is very important. 

She nods, dubious about this whole exchange, and then shows him the sponge - I'm cleaning you up; I'm sorry it hurts.

You could just kill me.

I'd rather not. I'm not much of a healer but I don't think it's that hopeless.

Not the injuries. I could help those along, it's just not worth the bother because they'll reinflict them. I think they'll stop you if you try but the best thing to do for both of us is to kill ourselves if we can.

Oh. We're - we're not there any more. I think that wasn't even the same world.

I don't understand how your telepathy works, I'm not sure I'm doing it right or what besides very simple things I can do with it.

Oh, this is a fake escape. Okay. Please don't bother me. I'll heal myself if you leave me alone a while.

Wow getting out of there was the right call.

Okay. If you want anything, let me know; I'll have soup ready in a while.

He wants to die, but if the fake escape'll drag on a while longer he may as well play along, insisting on dying will probably ruin their fun.

He slowly starts prodding his body to heal.

And she goes and makes soup, trancing every now and then to keep an eye on him.

After a few hours he is too tired to stay awake and has patched the places where he doesn't have enough skin to stand a chance against infection and he falls asleep again.

The soup doesn't take that long. She brings him a bowl when it's ready, but he's obviously busy and she ends up eating it herself. She arranges the rest to stay warm, and then with nothing else to do she huddles miserably by the fire until he falls asleep, at which point she gets herself a blanket and goes to sleep as well.

When he wakes up everything is unfamiliar, and he's stressed, and then he remembers it's another rescue hallucination. He sets to work on healing some more burns and gashes and broken bones.

She wakes up a while after he does - for just a moment, the presence of someone else lets her think that the past six months were just a bad dream, but then she remembers, and groans. She only lies there for another moment, though, before getting up to stoke the fire and check on him.

Hungry?

No thank you.

All right. Let me know.

What do you eat? If you can get by on mostly meat we'll probably be fine, but if you need plants or anything I'll need to go gather it before the season turns.