Intel Fail ♦ ♦ ♦ Jai and Maat

That he strips rather than simply removes his shirt and jacket is noted by her, though the catches from the pain in his arm is what most holds her attention. He's clearly in pain. If this is how he wants to cope, she won't make issue of it. The half-whispered 'I'm all yours' complete with flexing, however, does earn another eyebrow raise as she shakes her head once more.

Of course, whatever reply might have followed is struck down when her eyes settle on the wound.

'Just a graze.' Ha!

His question, of course, puts her in another quandary. 'A doctor or a nurse.' Yes, that would make the most sense. She knows what she's doing and it's evident. After millennia of tending to her own injuries–marked and remembered by various scars all over her body that are, thankfully, covered by her usual choices in clothing–she certainly should know what she's doing.

She should have been more floundering, asked him for advice or instruction. But it's too late now. 

She can't say yes, to either, her domain preventing an untrue answer, and so she settles for the closest thing she can manage.

"No. I've had instruction on the matter, but I'm neither. Regardless, whether you've been shot worse or not, I know enough to know that that–" she indicates the wound and gives him a fairly stern look, "–is not a graze."

She sighs and pulls a chair over, sidling it up with his chair. She sits down and takes his arm in hand, offhandedly noting that his skin seems a fair deal warmer than hers. There's no need to worry over fever, yet, she doesn't think. After all, it usually seems as though everyone is warmer than her.

Her free hand gently prods at the injury. It would need cleaning. And then bandaging as well. If she was careful she could do a little more than that, but she can't have him understanding more than he should. Not if she can help it at least, though she's been doing a fine job so far of doing everything she can to not seem normal.

Disguises are simply tiring.

With another sigh, her gaze shifts from the wound to him.

"I'm going to have to clean this. It won't be pleasant, but I either clean it, or it could get infected."

The End

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