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Theo likes - well, he doesn’t like killing. Maybe that was true, back when Shoebilly and him trained on a golden-hazed hill, but he doesn’t anymore. Thanks to Parrot, mostly. Now, he would say that… he’s indifferent to it? Mostly.
Most of his kills can’t count properly as anything more than a duel; honorable 1-v-1s or the occasional 2-v-1 or a once-in-a-blue-moon 3-v-1. That, or they’re such chunguses they don’t even count as a threat.
This, however, was different. It was a 5-v-1, and the team was fully geared up with diamond. He was hard pressed, too. The blown-up craters of his carts leaving marks like scars through the land. Wincing painfully and limping, he makes his slow way home.
Across the grassy fields; into the dark forests, where he hopes the scent of blood doesn’t attract a bear or the like; and down the familiar streets of Capital City, where people gawk at him for having such obviously fresh wounds. Not that having wounds is an unusual thing on Unstable. They’re barely scabbed-over - the trip home was shorter than he thought.
“Theo,” Parrot says cheerily, but the joy melts away from his voice when he spots Theo’s wounds. “Dude,” he says, practically shoving him inside, “what the hell happened?”
“Got caught in a 5-v-1. They were pretty prepared too,” Theo answers, watching Parrot grab regen from their potion shelves. “I’m fine, though. Mostly.”
“Sure you are,” Parrot sighs. He pours a little regen onto the wounds.
“Ow,” Theo hisses, wincing. “That stings, bro.”
“Can’t help it,” Parrot says shortly, too busy to talk: a one-track mind. He finds a healing potion and forces Theo to drink it. The sickly-sweet concoction burns all the way down his throat.
He pulls out something that glints coldly, like metal, and in the sunlight streaming through their windows, it takes a moment for Theo to realize it’s a sewing needle, and not a knife. Parrot squints, successfully putting thread through the needle on the second try.
“Hold still,” he warns, starting to stitch the skin together. Not daring to look at the needle, Theo grits his teeth and closes his eyes, breaths hissing between his teeth. He only cracks open an eyelid once it’s all over.
“Done?” Theo asks, wincing at how croaky his voice sounds.
“Yeah,” Parrot says, putting on the last bandage. “Do you want some water?”
“I can get it myself -” Theo insists, but he’s already handing a glass to him. “...Thanks.”
“No problem,” Parrot says lightly. “I still have to stitch up that other wound, by the way.”
“Someone help me,” Theo begs jokingly, earning a laugh out of Parrot.