[ Strange eyes that outstretched hand; the mistrust isn’t for Tav’s capabilities in particular, but a general aloofness to begin with, a stiff personal bubble stretching some five feet across. The sorcerer isn’t too approachable, and so people rarely encroach on him. ]

No,

[ he says, although there’s a lingering unspoken but to that sentence. He’s seen the limitations now: several attempts and it couldn’t fully heal a fresh rope burn, so it won’t be a magical fix-all. He’s loath to get into it; but isn’t he obligated to at least mention it, just in case? So, Strange holds up one hand for Tav’s inspection: even now, it shakes and quivers as he tries to hold still. There are old, ugly scars scrawled down the length of his fingers, carved into the backs of his knuckles. ]

Just this. It’s long-healed, a few years back, so I doubt you could do anything about it now. Maybe if it had been at the time.

[ And if the elf had his full powers. If, if, if. The limitations in Thedas are a perpetual annoyance. ]