[Bond wastes no time in prodding the flesh, looking for any hint of the wound, but there's nothing. Gone as if it never was, and he can't fathom it, not yet. So instead of thanking him, or saying anything at all, he carefully buttons his cuff and shrugs back into his jacket, silent save for the heartbeat hammering in his ears.]
Impressive, [he finally manages, reaching for any explanation other than he's a bloody angel of the Lord.]
spam
Impressive, [he finally manages, reaching for any explanation other than he's a bloody angel of the Lord.]