for Bast
Kvothe is in his room with the door tightly shut, awake as if he has been for a long time, staring ahead at a wall. The look in his eyes is distant, but Bast is lying on his bed bloodied and beaten and any sound or movement would draw his attention immediately. Part of him is thinking how to convince Bast to let someone with more healing ability see to his mangled jaw, the rest is lost in memory.