In good news, the flow of putrid, intangible energy from Carlisle's abdomen is slower than it was when Kate last inspected him, the result of the patch job Ravine did in his dire moment of need; however, that is the only good news about his condition, save for the fact it didn't kill him immediately.

He remains still as he feels her own eyes upon him, the glow of theirs far different than his own. That light from his chest, once small and subdued, is the most vibrant aspect of his frame, its energies reaching into his eyes, though his limbs... and vanishing as well once they reach the claw marks at his abdomen, swallowed entirely by the wound as it bleeds with foul, poisoned mana from another plane. What energies that actually belong to Carlisle himself are so drained, so thin by comparison -- the Mote is propping him up, its strength likely all that is keeping him animated at this point, almost like some twisted form of not-yet-undeath.

And Carlisle knows it. He knows all too well he'd be out of time if not for the charity of others.