Faolan doesn't know quite what he's feeling exactly, just that she's doing something and he hasn't felt her touch him at all. He glances back at her warily -- he trusts Bran, to a certain extent, but he will always be wary of healers, for healers are doctors by association, and doctors he associates with hospitals which he associates with the worst time of his life, and so on and so forth.

Still, having her tend to him is by far better than having to go to A&E. So he nods, stiffly. "Yeah, alright," he says, trying to steel himself for whatever's coming. He's had stitches done without pain control before, after all. He doesn't know what she's about to do here herself, but if that's it, then he's going to have to be ready for it. "Go... Go ahead then." He chews his lip for a moment, before wondering aloud, "Would this be better if I sat down...?"

He's not tall by any extent of the word, but then neither is she, and if she wants him to stay still while she's doing this... Then that might be wise. Especially if it's going to hurt.