Foolish men

Gwynevere's gaze shifted from the stream back to the injured Commander as he spoke, giving her his perspective and advice. She was grateful that he didn't agree that her reaction was silly and that he was even able to relate the experience to the fact that the first time was difficult for anything regardless of the task. Her ear flicked a bit at the memory of the first time she treated someone on her own–her mind briefly flashing back to the memory of frantically patching up her mother after Resin attacked her. Her personal example of that first was likely more traumatic than most, but she understood what he was trying to say and appreciated him for being a voice of reason. Even though she had interacted with Mercury a few times before she hadn't really gotten to know him very well as of yet. Quickly she was starting to pick up on his thoughtfulness and wisdom and was beginning to understand why Artorias thought so highly of the dark coated man. "Thank you," she replied after a moment, giving him a grateful smile.

She glanced up toward the castle, knowing it would likely be better if they could get back inside where he could rest and get something to eat, but looking at him now she knew even that walk up the slope to the castle was going to be quite the task for him. She settled down on her stomach in the grass, saying, "Lets rest here for a moment, just to catch our breath a bit." Admittedly, the whole encounter had wiped her out more than she wanted to say and she knew that if she was feeling worn by it he was likely struggling to even stay awake. While they rested by the stream, she reached for another clean cloth–the last in her bag, she made a mental note of–and dampened it before beginning to wipe the blood from her face, neck, and cloak. She had to wring it out a couple of times before she was satisfied and knew that she'd need to give herself and her cloak a proper washing later, but this would get her by for now.

She was about to lay it out to dry when she turned her gaze toward Mercury's sword that was laying in the grass beside them, bloodied and dirty. Quietly she shifted to face it and started to wipe down the blade carefully with the cloth. Much like her cloak it would probably need a better cleaning later, but it kept her occupied in the mean time. She glanced over at Mercury to see if he was still awake before she asked, "Does it have a name?" She knew most–if not all–of the Carpathian weapons that her brother had gifted to their family members and particular wolves were named so she assumed this was no exception, but she didn't know that for certain.

"Gwynevere Carpathius"