He looked over in her general direction, staggering slightly. "Hey... Aspen," he managed tiredly, pulling off his chestplate. His white undershirt was red with blood.
He frowned, squinting down at himself. "I'm alright," he muttered, waving her away. "Everything's okay."
"Not everyone is open to talking, it seems," he said with a sharp laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm alright, Aspen."
She knelt in front of him, her hands gentle and a bit shaky as she went to check. "I just need to make sure you won't need further medical attention."
"If I did, would you know how to do it?" he asked skeptically. He had a large wound over the left side of his chest. It had been sloppily stitched up.
She frowned, looking up at him. "I can bandage, but that's about it. Sometimes in the workshop there can be sharp things, so.."
