[Darin's eye twitches as he visibly resists a wince when he uncovers the wound. Darin might heal from physical damage faster than most people but he still feels pain. And this wound would have especially hurt. He examines how far along she's healed and looks for any inflammation or infection. Satisfied that Zelda had been properly taking care of it, he begins the treatment while he talks.]

...He's my twin. I wasn't the only one born with my abilities. His name is—was— Dromas. Same face but his hair is a deeper, moss green. Kinda wild, down to his shoulders.

[Surely Zelda can imagine that a man with Darin's strength would be dangerous but his explanation might not make sense. If Dromas died as a child, why would he be dangerous now? Even with his supposed strength, a child would have a significant disadvantage...]

[Darin's hands move deftly; gentle and precise despite the hardened callouses on his fingers and palms. Twenty years in the forge have made his hands strong and hard but it's apparent from his control that he's used to being as careful as he can be. He sprays the wound carefully with antiseptic and carefully places a new square of gauze over it; the wound might be scabbed but one wrong move could reopen it again. Then, he holds one end of the bandage with his thumb just below the inside of her elbow.]

Hold here, please?

[Once she's got it pinned, he begins to wrap.]

...It's my fault he died in the first place. Always was afraid he'd haunt me just never expected it here and now.