Carlisle gives Pratt a nod, not bothering to insist he's fine or that the ink is just something he lives with; he can explain it all later, when they're not running for their lives from a demon who may or may not be chasing them.

"And you as well, my friend," he offers before heading off in the opposite direction, digging through his satchel for his phone. He has people he must attend to, and the sooner he can get in touch with them, the better.