Harsh yet painful words dripped from the mask this stranger wore, not knowing if this was truly a man or but simply some puppet that got cut loose of his strings. Yet the wanderer could not let him simply suffer from this terrible wound, and how it was bewildering to his POOR, poor ego. It seemed as if this stranger had never gotten hurt before... or perhaps had anyone around to witness his grueling display.
“ I am not commanding you. “ Riven was anxious; torn with what she should do, yet her facial expression was kept with composure. Too many times has this happened on the battlefield... but this was no field in which hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers have fallen. This was a single man, a single wound.
“ --However, if living is something you want to continue to do, you will listen to me for the time being. “ He could barely move as it was, and he needed his wound tended to quickly. While Riven was no doctor, she could at least stop the bleeding for a while with a tear from her cloak wrapped tight around the masked stranger’s waist.
“ ...I will not stop you if you wish for death, ser. “
Riven knelt down in front of him, an arm resting on her raised knee. If that was what he truly wanted, she would wait. Give him a proper burial.
She promised difference in her life, and nobody should ever die alone. Not anymore.