[He snorts in agreement, and then frowns as the unmistakable scent of blood, that familiar rusty metallic tinge in the air greets him.
Glancing down, he nods to the other's arm, then turns a critical gaze on the other for the first time, really taking in the weary cast to his expression there to highlight the injury.]
...You look like shit. What the hells happened to you?
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Glancing down, he nods to the other's arm, then turns a critical gaze on the other for the first time, really taking in the weary cast to his expression there to highlight the injury.]
...You look like shit. What the hells happened to you?