"I rather figured not," Ronan said, smiling softly. A quick slice on his palm along the old scar was enough to bring the spell to perfect clarity in his mind, so associated now were the two acts. He carefully pulled the shard of glass out with his right hand before bringing his left, bloody hand over to the wound and starting the spell. Liquid syllables came forth from his lips; before long, both wounds were healed to the point of old scars, Tony's arm sealed up just as Ronan's hand was once again.

Ronan sat down rather abruptly. "... That does rather take it out of one," he said.