[The words are true enough–(the moving on, bit. To hell with believing he actually was brought somewhere. denial is a land that suits him fine.)–and Baroona agrees with them, crouching down with a grunt and grabbing the glaive. He uses it to stand back up, turning it from a weapon into a walking stick, albeit a deadly one. When he relies on it to take his weight, walking becomes easier. No less painful, but it's not the worst he's felt.
Leaning on both staff and injured leg, he uses one of his knives to cut a long strip from the bottom of his shirt.]
"We"?
[The wound is big enough to need a significant amount of cloth. His shirt starts to become a belly-shirt, the majority of a large stomach scar now visible. He breaks off the strip when it looks long enough, padding and wrapping the wound while he speaks.]
no subject
Leaning on both staff and injured leg, he uses one of his knives to cut a long strip from the bottom of his shirt.]
"We"?
[The wound is big enough to need a significant amount of cloth. His shirt starts to become a belly-shirt, the majority of a large stomach scar now visible. He breaks off the strip when it looks long enough, padding and wrapping the wound while he speaks.]
You don't need to stick around.