Even a familiar voice is startling down in the depths, especially when it reveals to Cullen that his attention was drawn to his wounds, instead of the darkness. "Bethany," he greets her calmly all the same, his tone warmer than the sparse fire, appreciative of the offer--

--until he looks up, and sees why the quiet in her voice sounded so strange. With a sharp tug he pulls the cloth around his wound, good enough, and jumps to his feet.

"You're not well, did you-- Maker."

Because he's at her side to support her in a flash, only the closeness reveals far too much. Not injured. Not just injured. Worse.