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Rabies doesn’t think there’s anything more humiliating than the fact it’s been injured by a giant frog. A frog! Luckily, Varyll was there and killed it in all xyr “better-than-thou” glory, but still. It was basically a defeat in the Kobold’s eyes. And a humiliating one at that.
And that’s why it’s currently hiding its injured arm. It honestly isn’t that big of a deal, at least, it hopes so. That being said, it winces as it pushes open the door to the tavern they’re staying in. Screecher gives it an odd look, and Varyll doesn’t notice, already going to the bar for a drink. Rabies rolls its eyes, going to the room that the three of them are sharing.
Screecher stays behind to get food, so Rabies stares in the mirror, examining the damage to its arm. It hisses when it rubs its hand over the wound, blood coating its hand. “Well, fuck.”
“Rabies?” Screecher calls, beady eyes widening when he sees its injured arm.
Rabies covers the wound as Screecher rushes over, making a worried sound, similar to that of a whining mutt. “This could get infected,” He scolds gently, taking a deep breath and casting cure wounds.
Rabies bites back a yelp. The spell is never really pleasant, nor does it enjoy feeling its flesh mending and closing the wound. The duo’s heads turn to face the door as Varyll walks in, blinking a few times. “Am I... interrupting something?”
“Only me being a fucking dumbass, apparently,” Rabies mutters.
Screecher makes the sound of thunder, showing his displeasure. “Infected wounds are no good.”
Varyll rolls xyr eyes. “Rabies is correct, then.”
“Hey!”
“Look, I’m sure we’re all tired, so can we just go to bed?” Xe sighs, walking past the two and already grabbing a change of clothes.
“Fine, fine,” Rabies grumbles.
Although its injury was humiliating, it could accept help sometimes. It supposes.