"Peace, Ollie." It's soft, calmer than it was before, and more familiar, but it still bounces around the cavern, as her hand finds his shoulder. That, too, is gentle, and it's not entirely warding so much as a warning. There, not to hinder, but to keep him from hurting himself, or to help him if she has to. "You've had a rough few days."

The ocean and the sand, and whoever these League of Assassins were, they'd none of them done his wounds any good. Given that was likely the point. That, or simply his death. It hadn't been surprising to find they didn't heal easy, but it'd been a little rough. All around. It'd been a relief when his fever broke, and she was finally more certain than less he was actually not going to die on her shortly.