*Soren*
I lounged on the cot, propping my head up with my arm. Mila peeled my bandage off and I watched her movements as she unwrapped the bandage.
A small frown forced her lips down as she looked over the leg.
“Soren, it has been three days. Your wounds aren’t healing. Why is that?” Mila asked.
Eros had given me that putrid smelling poultice three days ago and the bleeding had stopped. The wounds hadn’t scabbed over or begun to heal. Mila was checking every day and whenever that little frown touched her lips, I knew what was on her mind.
Sighing, I shrugged and nudged her with my leg. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”
Mila rolled her eyes. “Stop making it sound like nothing. This isn’t nothing… aren’t you concerned at all?”
“Sure,” I said, shrugging again.
Mila narrowed her eyes at me. “Why do I not believe you?”
“Mila, my concern is about you running away again, especially while I’m sick,” I said, sighing.
