"Like..." She lowered her head, clearing her throat into her shoulder before mustering a weak growl, flashing him a sidelong grin as she unwound her arms from around her belly and turned her attention away. She wanted to meddle, she wanted to fix it herself. She couldn't trust her hands to thread a needle, however, even if they had found one. There was no way she would have expected him to simply allow her to paw all over in such a state - not if he had been trained by a healer worth their salt, which she was happy to believe he was.
It was nicer than the alternative. She still wasn't convinced that a long slow death of sepsis wasn't ahead of her, but instead focused on the bright side, the distractions. "Hrrrr, druids." She looked at him as though it were an in joke. With a softening gaze she watched Isuna's antics, ignoring the look of what she guessed might be concern.
The wound itself was clean and largely, crossing her side and tracing along the path of a scar not yet entirely healed, bold black ink spelling a name across the gaping maw of the wound - F L Y N T. The angle and depth, however, suggested not assault or incidental injury as did the rest of her, but perhaps a wound self-inflicted - reopened in the struggle? She looked thoroughly unaware, pondering instead what it was she meant to say after "druids", her mind having taken a day-dreamy wander through what remained of a world before the river and the obsidian plain it had dumped her into. The longer she focused on it the more it seemed like a dream, difficult as the spirits he claimed existed, though not as generous. A muffled grunt rewarded his efforts to keep her guts and blood on the inside of her skinbag, a weary growl telling him it had really hurt though she was far too winded by the application of the bandage to do much about it.
With a grimace she turned her right cheek toward him, peeling back a blood-matted curtain of hair that covered a gash extending into the hairline, crossing down across her brow, her cheek, even carving into the bridge of her nose. Bruising and swelling suggested blunt trauma, maybe a rock in the rapids, maybe some asshole way-laying girls on the roadside - it was hard to tell and she didn't seem interested in discussing it. "Maybe a bit gentler with the head. Not as much to keep in there." She gave a hollow cluck of her tongue, emulating the knock at a door, the punchline of a joke she was too tired to give the good old editorial glance before just saying and doing whatever had come to mind. She sure felt stupid right now. Tired.
"They just give you things? Like gryphons?" This was a dizzying realization, one she regarded with abject suspicion. "What's the catch. What's her... Y'know... Price?" If she could just keep talking she was sure she'd survive just a bit more bandaging and maybe even the trip to the infirmary. Luckily, Isuna provided many (cute) talking points.
It was nicer than the alternative. She still wasn't convinced that a long slow death of sepsis wasn't ahead of her, but instead focused on the bright side, the distractions. "Hrrrr, druids." She looked at him as though it were an in joke. With a softening gaze she watched Isuna's antics, ignoring the look of what she guessed might be concern.
The wound itself was clean and largely, crossing her side and tracing along the path of a scar not yet entirely healed, bold black ink spelling a name across the gaping maw of the wound - F L Y N T. The angle and depth, however, suggested not assault or incidental injury as did the rest of her, but perhaps a wound self-inflicted - reopened in the struggle? She looked thoroughly unaware, pondering instead what it was she meant to say after "druids", her mind having taken a day-dreamy wander through what remained of a world before the river and the obsidian plain it had dumped her into. The longer she focused on it the more it seemed like a dream, difficult as the spirits he claimed existed, though not as generous. A muffled grunt rewarded his efforts to keep her guts and blood on the inside of her skinbag, a weary growl telling him it had really hurt though she was far too winded by the application of the bandage to do much about it.
With a grimace she turned her right cheek toward him, peeling back a blood-matted curtain of hair that covered a gash extending into the hairline, crossing down across her brow, her cheek, even carving into the bridge of her nose. Bruising and swelling suggested blunt trauma, maybe a rock in the rapids, maybe some asshole way-laying girls on the roadside - it was hard to tell and she didn't seem interested in discussing it. "Maybe a bit gentler with the head. Not as much to keep in there." She gave a hollow cluck of her tongue, emulating the knock at a door, the punchline of a joke she was too tired to give the good old editorial glance before just saying and doing whatever had come to mind. She sure felt stupid right now. Tired.
"They just give you things? Like gryphons?" This was a dizzying realization, one she regarded with abject suspicion. "What's the catch. What's her... Y'know... Price?" If she could just keep talking she was sure she'd survive just a bit more bandaging and maybe even the trip to the infirmary. Luckily, Isuna provided many (cute) talking points.
