[He stays in position for a while longer before stowing his things, including the hand, for disposal in the near future. There isn't much time left on this night. Sparing no glance at Fiora—he's imposed enough—he settles against a large stone and closes his eyes, listening to the fire as it crackles, in anticipation of their oncoming unconsciousness.
It's time to rest. There's no telling if either of them will remain awake tonight.]
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[ Fiora shakes her head. ]
Anyway... your hand, should we...?
[ what do they do with it now. this is a situation she never thought she'd be in. ]
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[And he swallowed some painkillers earlier. It does next to nothing, but it's something.
His gaze falls on the dagger he set down.]
Your blades . . . I will clean them.
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You don't have to, Rufus. You're already injured so badly. I can handle it.
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I wouldn't call this severe.
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You do know you just cut off your hand, don't you? If that's not severe, I hardly know what is!
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Listen. I appreciate the thought... I really do. But if you really want to pay me back, then you'll just rest for tonight. All right?
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[ she sits back again, resting her hands in her lap with a small metallic sound. ]
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It's time to rest. There's no telling if either of them will remain awake tonight.]