He nods, humming affirmation while he points to his forehead with the first two fingers of his left hand. Qi burns light a gentle blue there after a moment, and then he pulls his fingers away, the light following them when he brings his fingers just shy of touching Taiki's neck where he's been cut. It isn't the finesse of a true healer, more like a warm balm that goes from gentle to almost hot, and it's his energy, partly divine, seeping into Taiki, following natural systems, focussed on supporting the healing of the body through the lending of outside energy to subsidize the process. For anything larger, it would help staunch flow; for something this small, there's a chance it will set the flesh to knitting, scabbing the injury over, if not healing it smooth.

He's not a healer. That is not his area of skill.

"What they're saying, I've been hearing it whispered across camp." A tip of his head, as if to indicate his ears. "Taiki, you need to get out of here. We're going to have to subdue the refugees. They will resist. People will be hurt."

Taiki isn't cut out for any of that, and he's already been injured, is already around blood.