"Heh," Caesar grunted as he helped Albert along those last few steps, hope flaring brightly in his heart as Albert seemed to return more and more to himself. He'd never imagined he'd be so happy to be on the receiving end of Albert's sharp tongue, but at the moment it didn't matter at all.

Caesar eased Albert down to a sitting position on his bed, taking a seat beside him. "Forget what I said earlier. I should have brought a cart." He groaned as he rolled his shoulders, trying to soothe the pulsing ache that had developed there.

He turned to get a good look at Albert, trying to take stock of the entirety of the damage. He looked haggard and smeared with dirt and grass stains, which was not unexpected, though his eyes had lost most of the glassy vacancy that had been there before. His wings were a mess; tattered, feathers missing and broken, though not a complete loss. He looked like hell, but in the dim light he couldn't see any obvious wounds or blood.

The only important damage, Caesar reasoned, was probably internal.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked quietly, a moment later. "Food? Water? More blankets?" He looked at his hands, covered in mud and grime. "Or would you... like some time to yourself?"

Caesar didn't want to leave his brother right now, not like this -- but he knew Albert would hate it if Caesar tried to treat him like some helpless child or wounded animal. Therefore, the offer remained.

He kept staring at his hands as he waited for Albert's response.