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With the leg of his pants rolled up, Chtoni gets a better view at the wound on Zodyl's leg. He's propped it between her thighs, resting on the crate that serve as a make-shift seat. The wound looks painful, bloodied and already starting to scab across his shin.
"You are lucky all you got is nothing but a scratch." Chtoni says, carefully cleaning the wound with a warm wet rag, slowly rubbing away at the dried blood. Zodyl doesn't flinch, even when the rag catches onto the stickiness of the half-dried blood.
It wouldn't have taken too much effort for the Trash Beast to dig its claws onto Zodyl's tibia, had Chtoni not dragged him away at the perfect time. But the wound looks mostly superficial, without the need for further care. She sighs as she drops the bloodied rag on the ground, grabbing a piece of gauze roll instead. It should do its work, stopping the bleeding with the pressure added and covering the wound from further debris. She doesn't want to think of what would happen if infection where to settle in.
"You have to be more careful, boss."
It would be best if Zodyl allowed himself proper medical treatment, if he did not shrug off his wounds as something that was to pass. She looks at him, observes how he's carefully looking at the wound being bandaged.
His eyes meet hers, and when he speaks there's a clear assuredness in his voice, "You are always watching."