[Louis is still a bit blurry around the edges as his wounds knit together inch by inch.]

Wasn't expecting an ambush like that.

[He'd expected something to happen, but an all-out assault was not within his expectations. He should have expected it, but here they are, regardless. The question of clothing has Louis looking down at himself. His shirt is nearly shredded, hanging on by threads on his shoulders, and his trousers are torn, but moreso stained with blood.]

The tall wood cabinet there. [Louis points to a thin cabinet that runs the height of the safe room.]

Did you come from New Orleans to check on me? [Louis asks, though he's not ungrateful in the slightest. If Lestat hadn't come, Louis would be dead.]