He takes the paper towel and dabs at the cut a little to clean it off -- it's not a bad one, and it's mostly stopped bleeding now -- and then slaps the bandaid on it unceremoniously, more for the fact that Ned offered it to him rather than for the fact that he really needs it. He's had a lot worse cuts that have received a lot less medical attention in his time. He's still interested in what Ned's saying, though, and trying to work it all out in his mind.
"When you say something dies in its place, do you mean something of the same..." He gestures wordlessly, trying to figure out what phrasing he wants to use. "Something of the same species? Say you leave that strawberry alive, yes? Does another strawberry die in its place? Or could anything die?"
In other words, could not having returned that strawberry to the dead -- if you could really call a strawberry dead -- have killed him? Could only humans die if a resurrected human was left alive for more than a minute? There seemed to be parameters, certainly, ones that Ned knew well enough to recite almost as though they're never far from his memory, but Meyer isn't quite sure he understands how all of it works, nor whether it's really polite to pry.
Those times when you have to look up the history of the bandaid
"When you say something dies in its place, do you mean something of the same..." He gestures wordlessly, trying to figure out what phrasing he wants to use. "Something of the same species? Say you leave that strawberry alive, yes? Does another strawberry die in its place? Or could anything die?"
In other words, could not having returned that strawberry to the dead -- if you could really call a strawberry dead -- have killed him? Could only humans die if a resurrected human was left alive for more than a minute? There seemed to be parameters, certainly, ones that Ned knew well enough to recite almost as though they're never far from his memory, but Meyer isn't quite sure he understands how all of it works, nor whether it's really polite to pry.