"Oh, I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about losing my hunting permit through your untimely death. Here." He tossed her a bundle of bandages. "Clean yourself up. And don't try and help me; I can handle two monsters on my own."
She looked at him and scoffed. "No! I am perfectly fine. And would you rather I race off again or even the slightest attempt to help you?"
"Just - just stay where you are!" Tristan spluttered. His attention was now fully on the first monster. He stabbed it deep in the belly and twisted the hilt of his dagger. The monster crumpled to the ground and Tristan pulled out his blade. "See, I've been doing this all my life. I don't need your help."
She glared at the monster before her. She swooped low, avoiding it's talons and turned, swiveling back and thrashed the knife at it's eye. The creature reared and pulled out it's hands, pushing her back into a brick wall, as they both crumpled to the floor. Laken was unconscious and the monster dust.
Tristan kicked the wall beside Laken's unconcious body. He'd had that one and now she had to go and get knocked unconcious. Stupid girl. Not entirely gently, he picked her up and put her over his shoulder. At least this way he could make sure she didn't run away.
After a few minutes, Laken steadily woke up, uncomfortable and in tremendous pain. She grimaced and swallowed, pushing it down. Laken realized she was looking att he ground. she was on someones back. At that she squirmed, fighting and fidgeting, hitting his back. "Let me go!" she commanded.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Tristan said mildly, continuing to walk. "You'll just make all your injuries worse. Look, at least stop trying to escape until we get back to my place, alright? Then I can bandage you up and pretend I never let you get hurt."
She continued banging on his chest, her arms sore. "You LET me get hurt?"
"You're right. You let yourself get hurt," Tristan said mildly, completely unaffected by her hitting him. "If you'd listened to me, you'd be fine."
Laken scoffed. "I do not need your mothering. And I tried to help. It's say I have a right to do that." At the last word she hit him in the back: hard.
Tristan winced and almost dropped her. "Ouch! Do you mind not doing that?" he growled. "We're nearly there, but I'd rather arrive in one piece."
((Sorry, been sick -_-))
Laken moaned, her head tight and nearly on the verge of erupting. Her side throbbed with each of Tristan's steps. She relaxed, allowing her head to hang and arms to go limp, her breathing getting worse and worse.
((Get well soon!))
Tristan unlocked the front door and went into the living room of his apartment, where he laid Laken down on the sofa. "What hurts?" he asked gently, leaning over her.
She eyed him for a second. "Do you not see the huge blood stain at my side?" She inquired with much sarcasm.
Tristan rolled his eyes and went to fetch the firat aid kit. While most people had a relatively small one, his was packed ibside a large sports holdall. He brought it back and pulled out a bandage. "Will this do?" he asked.
Laken nodded and turned to give him the best posistion to wrap it. She winced slightly, but managed. At first, Laken glared at him, clutching to the hem of her shirt. But reluctantly, she pulle dit up partially, revealing two large gashes at her side.
Tristan's eyes widened a little but he knelt down beside her and gently began to clean her wounds. He didn't meet her eyes because he was sure that if he did, he'd blush.
Laken cringed, straining not to squirm. She huffed. "Do you do this often?" She motioned to the scars at his arms.
"Not for other people, no. For myself though..." He chuckled without humour. "There was a time when I had a hunting partner and our job was to patch each other up after a fight, but not anymore." He took a bottle of antiseptic out and wet a cloth with it. "This might hurt a bit," he warned her.