“Y’ouch! Be careful; I ain’t made o’ steel, y’know,” Sean complained as you tended to a medium-sized slash on his arm that he earned from a fight—in which he lost.

You finished cleaning Sean’s arm, bandaging it as you scolded him in the meantime.

“Ol’right… no need te scold me, now.” He commented as he felt your glare burning into his face.