Okay, that is— That's a very nice bare chest, and Karen is assuredly not looking at it. At all. It's clear that he's pained despite the very muscular distraction, and Karen falters where she's stepped in through the back door with a brace of rabbits slung over one shoulder.

"Are you—" she begins, and then glances to the counter. There's a bowl of red salt there, and suddenly all becomes clear.

"Just hang on," she quickly adds, dropping the rabbits to hurry to the cabinets. They don't have much in the way of bread, but milk might help, right? Glass in hand, she pulls open the refrigerator door and hastily pours out a measure of milk. It's green and sloppily done, but there's nothing for it.

"Here," she says, holding it his way.