So what if I'm being petulant? I hate that he has to tend to me, that I'm the one that got injured, when he doesn't have a scratch on him. Cheeky bastard.

I honestly can't remember which attack was the one that slashed my arm open, and that's bothering me just as much as having Basco fuss over me is.

"I'm not bitching." I slump down a little again, wincing only slightly when this tugs at my wound, what with my wrist held firmly in Basco's hand.