Please, Lavellan. The only thing that keeps Miles from talking is lack of consciousness.

"Right," Miles pants, nearly letting go of his injured arm to wipe the sweat off his brow, but he regrets even the slightest shift instantly and grits his teeth, holding his broken arm gingerly but closer to his chest. "Sure. I can walk that far. I've walked farther under worse circumstances. Hey, have I ever told you about Dagoola?"

He brings himself up short abruptly with a slight wheeze as he realizes he's starting to descend into feverish babbling and gives Lavellan a not-very-comforting grin. "Scratch that. Another long story. Hey, mind telling me what your healers actually do? Pretty vague title, that. Granted, we don't have magic where I'm from. But I'm guessing it's not a catch-all if you've got surgeons and doctors too. So, what are they -- like nurses? With magic?"

You said he could talk, Lavellan.