[ Whatever relief he's seeing at Ivar using a wheelchair to get around is pretty much squashed by the sight of Letha. His expression says as much even if he presses his mouth into a thin line to keep silent.

For the moment. He moves over to her other side and leans down slightly to get a closer look at her skin, face. This isn't good.

He looks over at Ivar taking her hand and then watches her face for any change. He straightens up when she speaks and moves to get some gloves on. ]

I hate to point out the obvious but you are not fine, Letha.

[ Adding, ]

Sorry, my bedside manner has never been all that good. But when it comes to something this serious, I don't think sugar-coating it will help.

[ Once he has the gloves on, he's reaching down to carefully lift one of her eyelids up more and then the other to see the state of them better. ]

You might be in the process of dying.