The blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

He ran a dry cloth across her leg to push out some of the moisture, and grabbed the paste he had left in reaching distance. He spread it across the broken leg in a slow, smooth motion. Her fur felt amazing beneath his pad, distracting… he took in a slow breath, and realised he’d halt mid way through the job. He shook his head, and grabbed the new bindings, wrapping them around her limb. Sorted, for the moment at least.

She claimed she needed a tea as well, and he narrowed his eyes at her. Exactly where did he draw the line at her pampering? He didn’t want to ruin all his hard work by spoiling her, especially so early on. “After you make us the stew, you can make yourself the tea. Try not to light yourself on fire this time…”


"Speech"