"Point of order, my dear: You didn't hurt me, I did. People get awfully confused about that sort of thing, so there's no need to feel embarrassed! But I always have a choice whether to heal or not, so if I do I feel it's entirely my responsibility... and that of course means I can take all of the credit." He winks, voice curiously lighthearted for someone who happens to be standing on the edges of a battlefield. His friends used to remark that he almost never takes a damn thing seriously unless forced to, and Luvander is fairly at peace with this.

"Oh, and you really don't. One time, my friend Ghislain picked up a man by his feet and beat his comrades senseless with him. Strength isn't even a mutation of his; he's just alarmingly huge and it was a skinny little man. It was still quite a sight to behold." He prattles on amiably even as he starts walking down the corridor, forcing down the vague wave of nausea that always comes with replenishing blood. He is not quite so silly that he does not understand that the older man wants him out of the battle, and while in a way it's laughable that this frail, soft-spoken creature is trying to protect him from battle and not the other way around, he can understand the sentiment. Powerful or not, they had all tried to protect Balfour as much as possible, had they not? It's natural to care for the young.

Oh, and Luvander is a healer. His priority is always with the wounded, not in battle. He halts momentarily, smiling up at Kariya. "It's this way, isn't it?"