"Perhaps a kiss?" He offers with a half smile, extending a hand. "Truly? No. The poultice and snow will see to it. I have suffered worse at the hands of my own traps. But you..."

How does he say this?

"It is...difficult on you as well, his troubles, his fits." For that is what it had been, a fit. How many times had he stepped in to do much the same for Taliesin in his youth, when his jealous rages would get the better of him? "Soothing him afterward. Playing the peacemaker. Begging patience and forgiveness for him. Is there anything I might do to ease that particular burden?"