If there were only bruises involved, he might have agreed to just leave it and let her go on with the story. Something about her blood, though, sparks something at the back of his mind. Maybe it's just him wanting a reason to use the abilities he's forced to pretend he doesn't have (or maybe his vision flickers back to the dying bird, the corpse torn in half, the--)
"No, I'll fix it," he insists, gingerly touching the wound again, "Better than you skipping around, bleeding from your head. People will think you've hit your head and lost your senses."
Just not here. His blood magic is a dark and terrible secret back home, where magic is at least something people are known to have sometimes. In a place like this, with residents who seem to be little more than normal humans? He'd just rather not take his chances. He looks around, trying to think of where he might be able to snag a quick room.
"Let's get out of sight, though." He takes her wrist and gently pulls her along, hoping she'll follow of her own free will. "Tell me about what kind of a curse it was in the meantime."
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"No, I'll fix it," he insists, gingerly touching the wound again, "Better than you skipping around, bleeding from your head. People will think you've hit your head and lost your senses."
Just not here. His blood magic is a dark and terrible secret back home, where magic is at least something people are known to have sometimes. In a place like this, with residents who seem to be little more than normal humans? He'd just rather not take his chances. He looks around, trying to think of where he might be able to snag a quick room.
"Let's get out of sight, though." He takes her wrist and gently pulls her along, hoping she'll follow of her own free will. "Tell me about what kind of a curse it was in the meantime."