Watson looks up from where he's at one of the cupboards, faintly wary. He looks tired, more than anything else, but perhaps he can be forgiven for sleeping poorly just at the moment. Still, he's done more in worse conditions, unfortunately. He looks Dimitri up and down, trying to work out just how serious it is.

"Your arm," he says. "Come, sit down, let me take a look at it. He attacked you?"