And Bruno, in turn, looked over and blinked at the man when he noticed him edging into the room. He was sitting up on the edge of the bed by then and seemed to have been interrupted in the middle of feeling out the extent of the bandaging around his head.

"I--" He started to say that he didn't, but then glanced down and thought better of it. He was still wearing the black base of his riding suit (he had ditched the chaps, jacket and chest piece while still in the Porter building-- they were too recognizable, and Rua had seen him in it more than once even if it was years ago for him now) which now had a nice collection of dried blood splotches down the front where it had been dripped on liberally by his bloodied nose and mouth. Whoever had patched him up had also washed off his face, thank god, but they hadn't gone so far as to strip off his shirt.

Bruno tried to cover an uncomfortable cough. "Ah... some clothes would be a help," he said politely.