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Summary
Sirius remembered he was standing in the middle of his trashed study.
"Ah. That's-" Sirius stops speaking. He isn't sure how to explain this. Maybe he shouldn't. Procyon probably won't care as long as Sirius seems fine, right?
"..Sirius, you're bleeding." Procyon speaks for the first time, and Sirius wants to wince at the way it bounces off the walls. He doesn't. He's keeping very still.
"Am I? Sorry. I'll deal with that. It's just mine." Sirius waves it away, and can't hold back a flinch at the sight of his hands. They were covered in blood and scratches.
...That was what the stinging was, okay.
- Language:
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