[this is the first time he's let thancred see him shirtless so easily. as it turns out- the scars already on his arm also are from teeth and claws, so hey, it all fits together. preserves an aesthetic.]
Don't worry, I can take it. Done worse without numbing salves than putting on antiseptic. Infection's going to be difficult to treat, though, we had... two weeks for it to develop.
'Tis a long time to be away getting chewed on and infected and all manner of...
[He sighs.]
Oblige me and just let me fuss over you a bit, would you? I'll patch what I can, and on the morrow we'll get better advice from someone capable of more than just field dressing.
[Which he. Probably. Should've done instead of coming here to hole up in the quiet and guard Ryn like a jealous dragon with a hoard, but. Well.]
[maybe he wants to be doted on a little, too, but catch him actually saying it.
he leans on thancred, though, and as it turns out-- he's not kidding about his tolerance. there's an occasional hiss as the antiseptic is applied, but he takes it well; he might stitch the wounds himself tomorrow, honestly, they could use it.
the leg wounds are similar to the arm injury, though they're only made by teeth. whatever did this clearly dug in and tore at it, in about three different places.]
[He keeps his eyes low and his hands moving, working methodically; inspecting the leg wounds for fibers and detritus embedded in them before carefully cleaning them out, until finally he ends up frowning at the trousers as a whole.]
It'd be better if I could get these off you. Or I could cut the legs, if you'd rather not. I'll leave it to you to decide.
[And he does, in fact, move to unfasten Ryn's trousers and make good on precisely that statement, carefully lifting him up and off the nook cushions as needed while he maneuvers the fabric free and eventually divests him of it.]
Mm. The cream for these, I think.
[He says, mostly muttering to himself as he digs into the medical kit again after the new wave of supplies he needs.]
[He did not, it seems, realize that. At least he has the decency to look sheepish about it.]
Consider me your hands, then. I'm at your direction.
[The comment about the rash, though, is an odd one, and he narrows his eyes even as he's organizing the supplies to begin following the process Ryn lays out.]
Where do you suppose it came from? Irritation from the clothes? Allergies?
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no subject
[this is the first time he's let thancred see him shirtless so easily. as it turns out- the scars already on his arm also are from teeth and claws, so hey, it all fits together. preserves an aesthetic.]
Don't worry, I can take it. Done worse without numbing salves than putting on antiseptic. Infection's going to be difficult to treat, though, we had... two weeks for it to develop.
no subject
Two —
[...]
That's why you asked what day it was. The same as when Harrow was taken and it was long enough for her hair to grow out. It had you for two weeks?
[area man so startled he doesn't even translate it into sennights.]
no subject
....feels like I haven't seen you for that long.
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[A pronouncement full of such gravitas he doesn't even think to invoke inappropriate body parts of Thal or Azeyma or Halone or anyone.]
...Come here, then. Another thirty seconds won't hurt these wounds any more than they are already.
[Carefully setting the supplies aside, he hooks his hand around to rest at the nape of Ryn's neck and draws him forward a little, kissing him softly.]
I didn't realize. I'm sorry.
no subject
[it isn't, and he's not pulling away far after that kiss, letting thancred keep him close for now.]
Two months isn't so long for my kind, usually.
[usually.]
no subject
[He sighs.]
Oblige me and just let me fuss over you a bit, would you? I'll patch what I can, and on the morrow we'll get better advice from someone capable of more than just field dressing.
[Which he. Probably. Should've done instead of coming here to hole up in the quiet and guard Ryn like a jealous dragon with a hoard, but. Well.]
Hold tight. This will hurt.
[estinien voice this will hurt]
no subject
[maybe he wants to be doted on a little, too, but catch him actually saying it.
he leans on thancred, though, and as it turns out-- he's not kidding about his tolerance. there's an occasional hiss as the antiseptic is applied, but he takes it well; he might stitch the wounds himself tomorrow, honestly, they could use it.
the leg wounds are similar to the arm injury, though they're only made by teeth. whatever did this clearly dug in and tore at it, in about three different places.]
no subject
It'd be better if I could get these off you. Or I could cut the legs, if you'd rather not. I'll leave it to you to decide.
no subject
[no detritus, luckily, but there's a red rash around the skin for all of these wounds.]
no subject
[And he does, in fact, move to unfasten Ryn's trousers and make good on precisely that statement, carefully lifting him up and off the nook cushions as needed while he maneuvers the fabric free and eventually divests him of it.]
Mm. The cream for these, I think.
[He says, mostly muttering to himself as he digs into the medical kit again after the new wave of supplies he needs.]
no subject
[local ex-healer, at your service? his own service? whatever.]
Clean them first, then the antiseptic, then dressing. The rash is- it wasn't there before we came back, might not be part of it.
no subject
[He did not, it seems, realize that. At least he has the decency to look sheepish about it.]
Consider me your hands, then. I'm at your direction.
[The comment about the rash, though, is an odd one, and he narrows his eyes even as he's organizing the supplies to begin following the process Ryn lays out.]
Where do you suppose it came from? Irritation from the clothes? Allergies?