Not believing Ky’lar’s claim one bit, a grin tears his weathered features apart like a gash upon his face, thoroughly entertained by the idiot’s stubbornness if nothing else. Failing to admit their weaknesses was a trait John noticed all beings born of the inferno had in common, and he often suspected that pride was a major component in why it never happened.

“And I think the queen o’ england’s a fit bird– like hell are ya fine.” Shaking his head, he watched the other settle in a new position, wondering idly what he was going to do with him. As the minutes rolled past, a compulsion began to rise within him that bid him to grant the man, out of sheer pity, some form of aid, or at least enough that he could get back onto his feet. Thus, without asking permission first, he takes the cigarette from his mouth and quenches it within the other’s exposed viscera. Paying no mind to the yells that the feeling of burnt flesh would extract from Ky’lar, he concentrates on reciting a healing chant, wetting the tips of his fingers with the man’s own blood. 

Moving his hand to a flat area of Ky’s flesh, he draws out a sigil there that symbolised restoration whilst at the same time reciting a few words of power in a dead language. After a few seconds of this, he presses down on the marking with all of his fingers, filling it with his intent to activate it. Immediately,  what  meat and sinew was formally ripped apart began to knit itself back together without the aid of any surgeon in sight. The process would take a few moments to complete, but it was still faster than relying on a healing factor to mend the damage sustained.

“We don’t ‘ave the luxury of time. So you just sit here a bit, and let me clear up the mess you’ve caused, as per fucking usual.”

_{Failing to admit his own weakness was done not exactly out of necessity, but out of self preservation. To admit he failed was one thing, but to admit he wasn’t up for the task (by not being strong enough) was another. His family (not to mention other demon’s) already had it out for him. 
        They wanted to see – not to mention know what he was capable of. Most of the time he exceed their expectations. Other-times… he did not. He got beaten back, slammed into walls, and even left with him being ripped open. Just like this time.
     Ky didn’t feel like he needed John’s help. No, he’d just sit against the wall waiting to feel slightly better to move. If he was in his more demonic form, maybe he wouldn’t have been in this bad of shape, but that was only reserved for when he was in a desperate situation.} 

_{He didn’t believe the situation he was in a few moments ago to be that desperate but before his mind could wonder too far he let out a demonic screech. Pain was one thing – this was another. If he an once of more energy, he’d have tried to rip John apart, but luckily for the both of them… he did not.
      In truth, all Ky could do was lean his head back as his hands formed into fists. Whatever John did  or said for that matter was ignored. Even as his flesh started to repair itself, Ky’s focus was on  the pain,  and not the words of the other.}

_{Still, Ky did catch  the last bit of what John said… even if he’d deny it later on. 
       “— yeah, you do that. i’ll be here.”}