He did get to look at him, and he’s going to keep looking at him. This is just a temporary setback. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? All that waiting,” he chuckles softly, his gaze drifting down to his own chest as he pushes his wayward hair from his face.

Oh. That’s right, the scars left by the tuunbaq is gone. He’d almost forgotten about them entirely, but it strikes him odd not to see it on himself, those obvious claw marks as signature a marker as his stub of a hand. He blinks away some of his surprise and looks up at him with a sheepish smile.