Rolan thanks Viktor as he's handed the pencil, immediately using it to begin writing down notes on the napkin. He starts with the subjects he brought up, adding Viktor's request and spiraling off into the things he'd need to teach Vikor about spellcasting. The coughing fit gives Rolan pause, and he looks up from his list-making to watch him worriedly.

"You don't have to worry about libary, if it's too stressful," he hedges, unsure if the sentiment would be welcome or not. Disability isn't something he's familiar with; at least, not in this form. Many Hellriders had injuries that were disabling, but they often treated such things as a challenge to overcome.

Sickness, one that had no known cure, was something else entirely.

"I merely... I do not want you to think I believe you're incapable, and I did not want you to feel as if I was -" Taking control. Doing all the work. "- frog blast the vent core."

Rolan pauses, blinking in confusion at the sound of the words coming out of his mouth. "That's... um. Treating you like an invalid, I meant."