( Louis turns Lestat's wrist carefully in his hand, frowning with worry at the sight of the freshly-healed wound. It stands out so plainly to him against the skin around it; the light glints off the water as it rolls down Lestat's arm, and that only makes the texture more apparent. He makes a concerned sound, a soft cluck of his tongue, then lifts that wrist to his lips to kiss it gently. )

Very well. I'll take your lead, Lestat.

( He sighs, leaning his weight against Lestat again, putting complete trust in him. )

I've never been wounded this badly before... I have very little to compare it to. I suppose I don't know what to expect.