These Quiet Moments

As Mariah showed him her bleeding wound, Caedes reached into his satchel he’d dropped off his shoulders, retrieving a small bottle of antiseptic solution and a clean cloth. “What cut you?” He took a moment to douse the cloth with the solution, a concoction of different herbs, one being Yarrow, before he steadied his gaze to see if he would need to bind it. It appeared shallow, but with her light framework he worried it would leave her anemic -- likely an exaggeration but he wasn't taking any chances. For now he would focus on cleaning it, then stemming the blood flow. With gentle yet efficient movements, he cleansed the cut, his touch careful and clinical. “Hold still.” He instructed with a detached, authoritative rumble as he tended to her injury with care and precision. His eyes, however, betrayed the attentive devotion he held for her.