[Don't get him wrong. Tony is always in the mood to argue. He just usually has coherence, or at least, not half a pound of sand in his face. He hacks and grumbles and spits bits out and sits up, when he realizes that his chest has been relieved of the weight of sand. Reopens his eyes and gets to breathing again, as regular as he can. It's within normal limits of his character that he does what he's asked, handing her his arm.
He doesn't like being handed things, but he'll hand. His appendage over, that's fine.]
'Sg'rden?
[He squints at her under the delirious sunshine. Under her scrutiny, his arm doesn't look too too too bad. Skin's crispy, minimal damage to the underlying layers, if any. It'll be painful, but that's all.]
no subject
He doesn't like being handed things, but he'll hand. His appendage over, that's fine.]
'Sg'rden?
[He squints at her under the delirious sunshine. Under her scrutiny, his arm doesn't look too too too bad. Skin's crispy, minimal damage to the underlying layers, if any. It'll be painful, but that's all.]