[ in part, there's worry that the question might be too intrusive, but far more concerning is the state of that burn on her skin, something that seems like a much more concerning injury that the miniscule scrape upon his own knee. his lips twist a bit at her mention of a cuff, of it malfunctioning — not because it concerns him with questions of her possible crimes, he'd hardly care at all what the reasoning for her arrest had been, but that she'd been made to wear on at all, that anyone could even dare consider wrapping anything so cruel around her neck. ]

'Sorry'? Why would you—? [ his brows knit with confusion at her apology, shaking his head swiftly to it. ] They're the ones who should be sorry. If I saw the shitbags who put that around your neck —

[ there's a brief tension in his tone, not at all phased by her being in a prison, but that she'd faced any kind of cruelty while there. but he presses his lips together to ease back on his own distraught annoyance, focusing more on the priority at hand, on her, his voice returning to gentle concern as he continues to study the mark. ]

You said you've been here days, yeah? [ hmm, and it's still that vivid and dark. ] Might get infected or start to scar if it's not treated. You, uh — [ he turns his head to meet her eyes, trailing his gaze down to topical cream she'd used on his knee. ] I could help put some of that on — if it's okay. Burned my hands on the stove enough times as a kid to know how to be gentle with it.