So, gather up your jackets, move it to the exits

He blinked at the offer, the still fresh pain of it tightening his lips. “Can you bring back the dead?” he asked dryly. He didn’t think talking about it would do anything more than upset him all over again. The last thing he was going to do was get all weepy-eyed on some stranger.

He raised an eyebrow when she whistled over her shoulder. He didn’t get up, but he did look warily until her companion came into view. Wouldn’t it have been ironic if she had been tramping around the wounds with a jaguar at her heels?

“It’s fine” He said as she explained how it might be uncomfortable. He gave her access to his leg and didn’t interfere as she removed the crappy binding he had put into place. “Two days ago” He explained, peering forward to see what she saw. The wound did look rather ugly. Four ragged tears just above his right knee where that shit-faced cat had clawed him. They were somewhat deep, and a little crusted over. He really hadn’t done a great job of caring for the wound. The days had blurred together a little… he was a mess, wasn’t he? Too afraid to go back to Abaven and face his fathers grave. Too vacant-eyed to care for his body. He sighed.

"Senryū Cavaliere-Klein"