Don't give me that woe-is-me look. You're not the only one feeling like shit, and you definitely won't find any pity here.

[Rovan's expression remains cool, his voice equally apathetic. His hand reaches for Dextera's chin and forces it upwards.]

Look at me. Find some more fight in you, will ya?

[Not that Dextera has an option because the vagabond continues to grip and move his face. Like a puppeteer, Rovan checks both sides of his head to inspect for any damage. It's strange how quiet the kid is.]

Someone cut out your tongue? I'd pry your mouth open, but I don't want to smell your damn breath.