[He'd been skittish before when they'd first met. Reluctant to stay and talk, even with the reassurance that she was happy to simply act as a buffer between him and the speed daters if he needed someone to rest while stuck inside. She hadn't realized just how on edge the man was until he was sitting there on the curb under her care.
Bryn's been a soldier since she was sixteen. The first few years she was in the Sky Guard and during times of peace she never really saw any action. It was only after she was recruited for the Council Agents that she was truly thrown into the fray. Only then, when she got to know the other agents and had been through her own blighted gauntlets had she begun to recognize the way experiences like that could leave marks on people that couldn't be seen.
She doesn't know this man, not really, and perhaps it's intuition or familiarity, but there's something about his stillness and the way he breathes that tells her that something is amiss. His agitation has nothing to do with having gone flying in the street a moment ago and everything to do with sitting still for her while she tries to help.
For that reason she works quickly. Instead of waiting to see if she's gotten the bleeding stopped she pulls the gauze away when it seems to only seep from the wound. Staying in his peripheral view but far enough to the side to keep from blocking his field of vision, she quickly grabs some butterfly bandages and applies them as best she can. His hair is wet with blood and they probably won't stay for long, but she can't keep him there longer than that. Better to let him stand and step away from her than force him to take his personal space back.]
That's as good as it's going to get in a pinch but it should at least be a little less obvious now. [She moves back to her bag, stripping the gloves off her hands after gathering the medical waste together. In a show of trust or perhaps to simply indicate to him that she doesn't plan to be a threat, Bryn turns her back on him and begins putting together a small bag of some of the supplies from her pack. Gaze steady, she holds them out.] Here, when you're home you can probably take the time to do a better job of it.
no subject
Bryn's been a soldier since she was sixteen. The first few years she was in the Sky Guard and during times of peace she never really saw any action. It was only after she was recruited for the Council Agents that she was truly thrown into the fray. Only then, when she got to know the other agents and had been through her own blighted gauntlets had she begun to recognize the way experiences like that could leave marks on people that couldn't be seen.
She doesn't know this man, not really, and perhaps it's intuition or familiarity, but there's something about his stillness and the way he breathes that tells her that something is amiss. His agitation has nothing to do with having gone flying in the street a moment ago and everything to do with sitting still for her while she tries to help.
For that reason she works quickly. Instead of waiting to see if she's gotten the bleeding stopped she pulls the gauze away when it seems to only seep from the wound. Staying in his peripheral view but far enough to the side to keep from blocking his field of vision, she quickly grabs some butterfly bandages and applies them as best she can. His hair is wet with blood and they probably won't stay for long, but she can't keep him there longer than that. Better to let him stand and step away from her than force him to take his personal space back.]
That's as good as it's going to get in a pinch but it should at least be a little less obvious now. [She moves back to her bag, stripping the gloves off her hands after gathering the medical waste together. In a show of trust or perhaps to simply indicate to him that she doesn't plan to be a threat, Bryn turns her back on him and begins putting together a small bag of some of the supplies from her pack. Gaze steady, she holds them out.] Here, when you're home you can probably take the time to do a better job of it.