[ sam nearly laughs at that, the rough sound of his voice, the graveled not very good. no, he supposes not, but an answer at all is better than nothing.
they make it through the door, and sam is taking stock of the room. the couch, the center table. walks them both through the small space, into the small bedroom, and sets jaskier down on top of the blankets. he makes a note to apologize to peter later, setting the bag down and hands going to the bandage around his arm. ] She’s on an errand, but she’ll be back. She’s okay, don’t worry, I made sure. You’re at my place, you got hurt so I’m fixing you up. [ his voice is quick as he tries to answer what he assumes jaskier is thinking, his fingers gentle as he unwraps the fabric around the wound, sensitive to when he feels it start to stick, where the blood is the thickest.
his mind is shuffling through next steps, the small amount of fear wrapped up in what he knows is his next step, if only because it’s out of his experience, the vial packed tight in the interior pocket. ] I know it’s not good, but can you tell me a little more? Can you feel your fingers?
[ the bandage is almost off, and it’s heavy with blood, thick and dark. sam feels his throat tighten, but doesn’t allow it to show on his face. ]
Do you remember what happened? [ his eyes go to jaskier’s face before pausing in the un-dressing of the bandage, reaching down to grab the bottle and set it on the counter before pulling out the basic first aid items he keeps in the pack. he doesn’t know the extent of the potion, but the need to clean the wound, first, overwhelms him. ]
no subject
they make it through the door, and sam is taking stock of the room. the couch, the center table. walks them both through the small space, into the small bedroom, and sets jaskier down on top of the blankets. he makes a note to apologize to peter later, setting the bag down and hands going to the bandage around his arm. ] She’s on an errand, but she’ll be back. She’s okay, don’t worry, I made sure. You’re at my place, you got hurt so I’m fixing you up. [ his voice is quick as he tries to answer what he assumes jaskier is thinking, his fingers gentle as he unwraps the fabric around the wound, sensitive to when he feels it start to stick, where the blood is the thickest.
his mind is shuffling through next steps, the small amount of fear wrapped up in what he knows is his next step, if only because it’s out of his experience, the vial packed tight in the interior pocket. ] I know it’s not good, but can you tell me a little more? Can you feel your fingers?
[ the bandage is almost off, and it’s heavy with blood, thick and dark. sam feels his throat tighten, but doesn’t allow it to show on his face. ]
Do you remember what happened? [ his eyes go to jaskier’s face before pausing in the un-dressing of the bandage, reaching down to grab the bottle and set it on the counter before pulling out the basic first aid items he keeps in the pack. he doesn’t know the extent of the potion, but the need to clean the wound, first, overwhelms him. ]