[ He snorts softly to himself. Yeah. He'd wager anything that's what Ciri said. Tired. He'll take tired. He hates that she's worn herself out in a worry, that it's because of him she hasn't got any rest this entire time. But at least she's safe. Feels like that's all he can ask for. For everyone to be safe.
His gaze flicks back to Sam. He doesn't roll his eyes, but there's a sense that he has the urge to. Not that Sam isn't right, it's just. Shit. He knows. He does. He'll stay put and get to bed and not fuck anything else up about his body. As durable as he is, he's nowhere near invincible, and he reached his limits awhile back. He's lucky, frankly, that these are the only injuries he's racked up. Wounds that can be stitched back together, wrapped and bandaged and healed with a bit of magic, some herbs and medicine. It could've easily been so much worse.
(There are other, wounded parts of him that are not so clearly seen, but he's not dwelling. He can't.)
He looks at Sam's hand. Thinks briefly of the last time Sam had not taken his, out there in the desert. Flecks of blood still stain Sam's fingers from when Sam had bandaged him, or sewn him up.
He takes it. One eyebrow lifts, and he pushes to his feet with a sharp inhale. ] You aren't going to carry me there?
no subject
His gaze flicks back to Sam. He doesn't roll his eyes, but there's a sense that he has the urge to. Not that Sam isn't right, it's just. Shit. He knows. He does. He'll stay put and get to bed and not fuck anything else up about his body. As durable as he is, he's nowhere near invincible, and he reached his limits awhile back. He's lucky, frankly, that these are the only injuries he's racked up. Wounds that can be stitched back together, wrapped and bandaged and healed with a bit of magic, some herbs and medicine. It could've easily been so much worse.
(There are other, wounded parts of him that are not so clearly seen, but he's not dwelling. He can't.)
He looks at Sam's hand. Thinks briefly of the last time Sam had not taken his, out there in the desert. Flecks of blood still stain Sam's fingers from when Sam had bandaged him, or sewn him up.
He takes it. One eyebrow lifts, and he pushes to his feet with a sharp inhale. ] You aren't going to carry me there?