[He's cleaned up, more or less, by the time he returns. The blood is wiped and rinsed from his mouth and the cloth tucked away. The hay's picked out of his clothes and his hair, and for good measure, he waits long enough that the color of his face is, most likely, back to normal. His facade is firmly back in place as he knocks quietly, and when he pokes his head in, he smiles to see her.]

It's fine. One of the patrons downstairs got into an argument with the owner over fish--it was pretty funny to watch. [Refreshingly mundane, compared to the sorts of things the two of them have to worry about on a day to day basis. He slips inside and closes the door, coming over to peer at her book.] What are you reading?