He had barely started organizing his supplies before he heard his brother from the doorway admonishing his technique. The gilded prince's lips peeled back from his teeth in what would have been a menacing snarl- to anyone who wasn't related to him. As soon as those massive fangs were put on bold and terrible display, he stuck his tongue out through them and blew a raspberry at Crux. "My leg, I can do whatever I want." he sniped back in a mocking tone, turning his pale gaze away from the door to examine the raw skin around the wound where the bindings had worn the cream-striped fur away. He knew well and good that his brother was right about leaving it alone, and resting for a while to let it heal. And yet..
As soon as the words were out of Crux's mouth he found himself completely ignoring his earlier belief that the dark furred male knew what he was talking about. Honestly, who was he to boss him around?
(A trained healer, his brother, and someone with both eyeballs and a modicum of sense, in that order)
"Yeah, but not for that long." he grumbled, unable to keep himself from scowling as he did. The pangolin named Peabody, thoroughly unimpressed with his companion's attitude, took the opportunity to wander away in search of something else to do. "You didn't say anything about going to other places so I could rest, so I've been walking to the baths and the overlook and uh, the common areas to rest for the day." the behemoth muttered, aiming to sound casual and falling flat as his littermate began carefully prodding at the length of bone to assess the damage. He hissed under his breath- much to his own chagrin. Admittedly, Stratum was hardly thrilled that he wasn't able to keep the exact amount of pain he was in under wraps.
"So it's all healed up, right? No more splints or bandages, I'm good to go?" his voice was decidedly high in pitch, fighting to fake a chipper attitude as though that was all Crux would need to sign off on him being fully healed. Never mind the intense pain that had persisted for months, or the atrophied muscle that had been trapped beneath the splints for all this time. It wasn't lost on him that he was whining about the very condition that had plagued his brother since birth, that which Stratum had spent much of their lives trying to protect him from truly suffering from. He understood it a bit better now. Wouldn't stop him from bitching about being kept from his work, though.
"Speech"
