classics - muse a tends to muse b’s wounds with more care than necessary //from bilbo
"In my defense, Master Bilbo, I've never even seen a cow before! How was I supposed to know it'd do that?"
Well, Atreion's mouth was still very much working, so he couldn't be that injured, but that didn't stop Bilbo for a moment. Hobbits were born to fuss - and Bagginses especially so - so when Bilbo pointed his muddy, shellshocked guest onto a stool with a glare to melt iron, Atreion had obeyed. Not quietly, but he had obeyed even so.
"I really don't think it's that bad." They were saying, as Bilbo dabbed at their muddy, bloody face with a flannel. His nose was swollen like a tomato, still bleeding sluggishly down his front. "I don't think she meant to hurt me. She looked so sweet with those big, pretty eyes, she probably didn't know her own strength!"













