He treated Yu right there, just as they stood. Yu held his breath and clenched his jaw in an attempt not to wince as Estingar applied another layer of ointment over what he had already covered. He also went over the places Yu had missed, the awkward angles on his back, which he covered with swift, methodical movements. Compresses came next, then bandages, pulled tight. The entire process, from the moment he opened the tin to the final knot, took less than three minutes.
This efficiency disturbed Yu more than it reassured him. It gave him the horrible suspicion that the guards had to do this way too often. Still, despite the pain and his growing distress, it did feel good to finally have it all sorted.
“Thank you,” Yu managed at last. He did not look directly at Estingar but past him, at the bathroom mirror, where the ulbatan’s back was reflected. Still, no silver.
“No worries. Now get dressed.” With his foot, Estingar nudged a charred scrap of fabric on the floor. “Though that shirt is useless now.”
Yu followed his gaze to the burnt and torn remains.
“Still got spares?”
“I guess.” Yu had not packed much. Warm winter stuff was extremely bulky, and space in his backpack had been sparce to begin with, not with all the supplies he had to cram in for the trail. But there should be one more set, besides the wet, frozen mess he had worn when he arrived yesterday.
“Good. See you in a bit.” With that, Estingar turned to leave.
“I — uh, I’ll clean up here,” Yu said quickly.
Estingar paused in the doorway, frowning as if Yu had just suggested something utterly ridiculous. “That takes way too long.”
“What?” Yu looked around. “Well, yeah, but, I mean, I have to clean this up. All the cloth, the feathers, the —”
“Gotta admire your work ethic.” Estingar smirked. “Do it after.”
“After what?”
“Don’t leave Tirran waiting too long.” Estingar laughed, already heading for the stairs. “Man, I still remember my first witch fight.”
What?
Wait — WHAT?
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