[ it's not more than a second after he steps back that the wooden door swings open, and marta is welcoming him in with sharp eyes. ]
Come on in.
[ she steps to the side, though there is very little "side" to step into; the little space she opens the door to looks like what might have once been an office in this apartment building — less of a room and more of a collection of four corners and a wall. but there's enough room for a cot, a chair, and a small table where several supply kits have been laid out for use. ]
Don't worry, I've cleaned up.
[ it... may not look it, but the space is as sanitized as it can get in a place like sedorum. ]
[It still looks cleaner than anything he'd seen on the battle fields, and a lot better than most army medical stations. The walls keep the worst of the cold draft from entering as he steps in to her room, the door closing with a quiet snick behind him.]
[ his vote of confidence earns a small smile, playing at the corner of her mouth, but she's quick to resort back to her professionalism. she gestures towards the cot as she situates herself on the chair just beside it. ]
[Before sitting, the Darkling shoulders out of his black kefta, folding it carefully before placing it on the cot well away from where he takes a seat.
Across his chest is a dirty-white bandage, clearly self-wrapped and the ends of it trail down his beck. Very slowly, keeping his eyes on Marta, he pulls it down to show her the old bullet wound in his left shoulder, where the bandits shot him in Scorpion's Bend and left the metal bullet behind.
The wound is angry-red, the edges folding away from the dark pink center.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Come on in.
[ she steps to the side, though there is very little "side" to step into; the little space she opens the door to looks like what might have once been an office in this apartment building — less of a room and more of a collection of four corners and a wall. but there's enough room for a cot, a chair, and a small table where several supply kits have been laid out for use. ]
Don't worry, I've cleaned up.
[ it... may not look it, but the space is as sanitized as it can get in a place like sedorum. ]
no subject
[It still looks cleaner than anything he'd seen on the battle fields, and a lot better than most army medical stations. The walls keep the worst of the cold draft from entering as he steps in to her room, the door closing with a quiet snick behind him.]
How do you want me?
no subject
Have a seat. Show me where you're hurt.
no subject
Across his chest is a dirty-white bandage, clearly self-wrapped and the ends of it trail down his beck. Very slowly, keeping his eyes on Marta, he pulls it down to show her the old bullet wound in his left shoulder, where the bandits shot him in Scorpion's Bend and left the metal bullet behind.
The wound is angry-red, the edges folding away from the dark pink center.]
Here.