Recovery

Pesto groaned as Alarr explained the treatment, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Stitches? Oh man, she'd rather have taken her chances with infection. Or bloodloss. Or anything else. "Are the stitches going to make it look better?" While Pesto was not the most prideful of women, she still cared more then she perhaps should. If Alarr thought her wounds ugly, she might not be able to resist crying over it. Already she felt the tears pricking at her closed eyes and she squeezed them tighter, her breath catching in her throat.

Stupid fucking intruder - and Jupiter knew her? Pesto hoped she'd remember to ream him a new one for even associating with the bitch. "I'm with Afi, they should have strung her up. But preferably by the neck." She huffed quietly, working her lip with her teeth. "Are Valdis and Tyrian okay?" They'd each had fights too, and any wounds they'd sustained would be Pesto's fault for not knocking Viper out when she had the chance.