Conner flinched when Selarenia knelt next to Journey, wanting to tell her to be done, but he didn't. She was a healer - he'd accepted that long ago. It didn't mean it was easy to see her flesh tear and break, the wounds pulled into her and healed. If a way existed where he could share this with her, he would've taken it. He'd chosen the path of Saia long ago, and that Avatar wasn't terribly bit on healing.
The wounds were severe, and they brought with them the sharp, bitter taint of the demonic. Journey gasped, his hand grabbing onto Selarenia's arm, fingers digging in as she continued to heal his body. "Enough," he said, at last, pushing her away, breathing hard. "Enough. I can do the rest."