Barnaby's hazy consciousness leaves him totally unprepared for Emet-Selch to yank the splintered wood out without warning, and he lets out a strangled howl of agony as the offending object is torn out of him, sitting up and seizing Emet-Selch's wrist as if in an instinctive rush of fight-or-flight adrenaline.

"Damn you--!" he gasps, breathing hard, before the soothing sensation kicks in, and his death grip on him slackens. In the moment he'd forgotten he had healing magic at all, and was convinced for a second he'd truly been trying to kill him.