Rough Night?

Caedes observed her wary demeanor with detached interest, his own emotions shielded behind a mask of indifference. He acknowledged her gratitude with a curt nod, his focus unwavering as he examined the wound on the back of her head with clinical precision. It was deep, and seemed to be inflamed.

"Aurelia, it’s inflamed. Not infected, yet." He echoed her name, his voice low and devoid of warmth as he gave her his assessment. "Caedes," His voice came in a monotonous manner, offering his name with no further explanation or pleasantries. His attention remained fixed on the task at hand, his movements deliberate as he reached for the herbs and salves scattered nearby. He wasn’t going to use what she had prepared already, opting to take the recently gathered herbs she’s prepared instead and begin his work. He took marshmallow, chewing it up methodically and spitting it back out onto a leaf where he added in a bit of aloe(which he also chewed up) to make it a bit thicker.

He moved with practiced efficiency, returning his focus to her as he applied the salve to her wound, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his hardened demeanor. As he worked, Caedes remained silent, his thoughts consumed by the satisfying task of tending to Aurelia's injuries. He felt no need for idle conversation, no desire to forge false camaraderie. This was where he felt the most accustomed, asides from the battlefield.