[ FOLLOW ] for sender to find receiver at the end of a trail of blood.
How about post Devil-Kraken war so they are friends at last?
“You're getting older. Slower.” a certainly weird choice to express worry so expertly kept from her tone
“Should've called me for backup but pride prevented you from doing so, didn't it” it wasn't a question but an observation and explanation in one. A sigh, concern finally shattering the ice cold expression “Come. Let my doctors check how much of the blood is yours. I don't trust your crew when it comes to delicacy.”
ᒥ☠ᒧ— He'd taken a blade to the gut a dozen or so times, enough that he mastered how to avoid a fatal blow. However, there were such things as slip-ups every now and then, Edward wasn't immune to making mistakes like he believed. The wound wasn't fatal, but it had gone a little too far to the right for his liking.
Edward shuffled away to his quarters, trying his best to fix himself up and slow the bleeding. What he didn't account for was the trail of blood he left behind, leading Rozália to his place of hiding.
"Shit happens, fuck you..." He snarls, pressing a cloth against his abdomen with heavy pressure to slow the bleeding. He's starting to look pale, and he sits in his chair with a slump as though he was fighting to keep upright. Taking a blade was easy, the fixing and cleaning up after was always the difficult part, especially when he hid himself away from prying eyes to handle it on his own.
"M'fine, been stabbed plenty--I am OLD, after all." He was a bit cranky, he had just been stabbed in a raid. "I can handle it m'self." He says while very clearly bleeding through the cloth now despite the pressure he's applied.
