Inigo is so, so, so curious about what Roland was about to say there. He can't help it, it's in his nature. He has half a mind to push, to insist on knowing what the other wanted to say, but the other half of him knows it wouldn't be right. Not right now. Not when Roland already seems so tired and is still dealing with that wound.

So Inigo lets it slide, and instead lets a smile appear on his face at the man's other words. Even though there may be some slight internal panic at the guy having seen the wounds on his hands, it doesn't show on the outside.

"It's fine, Roland.."

It really is. Inigo has had so, so much worse back home. A slight sting on his hands whenever he touches something at worst is nothing to him. If anything, the panic during the moments when he got those scrapes and scratches to begin with was the much worse part.

"You don't have to be this grateful to me. Not over something so small. All I did was make sure you were taking care of yourself and get you over here." He waves a hand dismissively. "Anyone could do that!"

He lets out a slight breath. "Now just go to bed, alright? You need rest."