"A rock...?" he suggests. There's... less of a growl underlying his tone. Not exactly the usual quippy fare most are used to, but by his standards, it's positively lighthearted banter.

He lowers his head, letting Teren manipulate it as she sees fit. There's not exactly much else to do, and the worst case scenario is that it does nothing other than give him another crick in his neck.

His gaze lingers on the splatter of blood and phlegm staining the flagstones. Vlast may have time to spare, but Teren's fate seems less certain.

"You need a healer," he says. "Soon."