[Branch slowly puts the knife down and crawls over to snag both bags and bring them closer. The one bag has the new supplies he asked for, the old one has some from the first drop, and some he collected on his own.]
[His eyes occasionally looking up from what he's doing to peer suspiciously at them, making sure they're not moving, he unties the ribbon and peels it away from his leg, wincing the entire time. The bandage underneath is completely soaked in blood. Then he unties the original bandage. It was a good bandage, tied well, it's just completely useless now.]
[As he gets to the layers closest to the skin, he can't help but let out an involuntary nngh and looks like he's close to passing out. It isn't the sight of the blood or anything, just the dizzying pain already hitting a body that is close to collapse.]
[But he manages to get it off. Sweating and looking like he's barely holding it together the entire time, he uses some of the little vial of water he was given and some tiny bits of gauze to clean it, then pulls out something odd - a little plastic stick piece from some kind of Lego kit covered in a sticky white substance. Branch had spotted and collected a rarity in the Pole - a spider web. Probably caused by some tiny hitchhiker that found its way there in some of the toy-making supplies brought from all over it. He slaps the web on the injury, then wraps and ties off a bandage.]
[It's well done. You don't live alone and forage in a forest full of predators without learning some self first aid. His lack of hesitancy - and knowing spider web as a home remedy - suggests a level of self-sufficiency.]
[When it's over, he cleans his hands off with more water and gauze and tosses it aside. He's sweating and even paler by then.]
[And he looks even more confused.]
I don't understand you. You don't have to engage in all this pretense, you know? With pretending to help me. I mean, I can't stop any of you from killing me.
[He shakes his head slowly.] That's just how it is with big people. At least back home.
You look a little different but you're still a lot like the Bergens.
[He's confused - and calm enough - to actually talk now.]
cw: blood
[His eyes occasionally looking up from what he's doing to peer suspiciously at them, making sure they're not moving, he unties the ribbon and peels it away from his leg, wincing the entire time. The bandage underneath is completely soaked in blood. Then he unties the original bandage. It was a good bandage, tied well, it's just completely useless now.]
[As he gets to the layers closest to the skin, he can't help but let out an involuntary nngh and looks like he's close to passing out. It isn't the sight of the blood or anything, just the dizzying pain already hitting a body that is close to collapse.]
[But he manages to get it off. Sweating and looking like he's barely holding it together the entire time, he uses some of the little vial of water he was given and some tiny bits of gauze to clean it, then pulls out something odd - a little plastic stick piece from some kind of Lego kit covered in a sticky white substance. Branch had spotted and collected a rarity in the Pole - a spider web. Probably caused by some tiny hitchhiker that found its way there in some of the toy-making supplies brought from all over it. He slaps the web on the injury, then wraps and ties off a bandage.]
[It's well done. You don't live alone and forage in a forest full of predators without learning some self first aid. His lack of hesitancy - and knowing spider web as a home remedy - suggests a level of self-sufficiency.]
[When it's over, he cleans his hands off with more water and gauze and tosses it aside. He's sweating and even paler by then.]
[And he looks even more confused.]
I don't understand you. You don't have to engage in all this pretense, you know? With pretending to help me. I mean, I can't stop any of you from killing me.
[He shakes his head slowly.] That's just how it is with big people. At least back home.
You look a little different but you're still a lot like the Bergens.
[He's confused - and calm enough - to actually talk now.]
[He hasn't picked up the knife again.]