[He tugs his hand free of his glove, keeps it captured between his teeth for just a moment as he extends pale fingers to grasp the other man's bandaged appendage, fingers lacing between his. Almost immediately, the seal at his throat comes into view, a soft and glowing light, and there's the usual sensation of pain transferred, a quiet wince of something that isn't entirely hurt as Ayer's injuries bloom through Julian's own body, taken onto himself in order to heal.

But there's something else, too. A soft, warm feeling of friendly pleasure that comes - not from the shared pain - but from the physical contact itself. From the moonlacing, as it has been described to him. His eye widens, just a touch, and then quietly, he's laughing.]

Weren't kidding, where they?

[Is all he'll say of it, as the aches that have been passed over to him swiftly begin to heal, and the warmth of the simple touch sparks the production of chroma between them. All Ayer should feel is a vague tingling through his body, as his injuries melt away.]

But I er, that is, I'd be grateful, if you would. New to town, and all that. I'd better start familiarising myself.