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“Don’t move,” Fishlegs says, and Snotlout groans. “Am I nearly done? I have to get back out there.”
Fishlegs eyes him suspiciously. “Why do you need to pick so many berries, anyway?”
Snotlout glares. “Don’t worry about it. Just– am I done?”
“Nearly,” Fishlegs tells him. “Just let me make sure they won’t come off.” He tightens the bandages, and Snotlout makes a choked noise. “Ow, Fishlegs, that fucking hurts–”
“Sorry!” Fishlegs says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Snotlout rolls his eyes. “Don’t– it’s fine. Am I good?”
“You’re good. Just… let me help you, okay? We can split up, cover more ground… pick more berries, I guess?” Fishlegs blinks at him, and Snotlout sighs. “Fine. You can help.”
“Good.” Fishlegs smiles warmly, taking his hand and pulling him off the bed. “Don’t fall into another bush.”
“Whatever.”
Snotlout reaches his berry goal faster with Fishlegs on his side, and the competition is won.
Tuffnut seems a little put out.