[ Siegfried is the prideful sort, but even he has to admit when something is beyond his body's capability to heal naturally. Even with Fafnir's blood coursing through him and allowing him to heal quickly, the axe that had inflicted the wound on his torso possessed some sort of magic. The type of magic that ensured its target wouldn't heal naturally.

So he's grateful that Aerith has taken him in; he's witnessed enough of her work before to know that he was in good, capable hands. And that she'd help him, or anyone who needed it.

Even if it does hurt his pride, a little. He gives her a small smile of gratitude. ]

Thank you again, Aerith. I hope I don't take up too much of your time or energy.

[ He shifts to try and remove the blood-stained linen shirt he's wearing. ]

Ah, how would this be easiest for you?

[ Should he sit? Lay down? Stay where he is? He's not used to letting others heal him. ]