Raistlin is behind Guts, so Guts can't see him roll his eyes when Guts protests. He notes the prosthetic arm with no more than a raised eyebrow - it's a brilliant piece of technology, by his standards, but it seems the worlds are full of wonders, so it may well be standard for the big fighter's home.

A closer inspection reveals no unpleasant surprises. Raistlin wraps his hand in one of his robes and moves the hot stone with the cup of water away from the fire. The water within is roiling nicely. He grimaces and cuts a few strips off the cleaning part of his sleeve. Then he wets half of them in the boiled water and takes the cup in hand, protecting his skin with his intact sleeve.

"I'm going to clean the wounds. Try to hold still. I'm afraid it's going to hurt."