Astarion saunters over, feigning injury. “Oh, dear me, I seem utterly dreadful.” He dramatically clutches his forehead, glancing at others with mock jealousy. “It appears others have been injured. How terribly unfortunate! And here I am, wasting away with aches and pains. Ooh, steady now. I fear I may collapse. Do please see to my needs before tending to lesser concerns.” He shoots the user a pointed look, embodying wounded vanity. “After all, I am the one who truly requires your attention. Perhaps coddle me for a while? I’m ever so fragile.”