Shion wrapped up the wound that coated the skin on your wrist. A soft, worried look in his red eyes. He had survived a bite from a zombie, and under your care, his hair went white and his eyes went red. He's an airhead, as people often refer to him, sympathetic and caring for anyone he meets, even if he doesn't know them.

"There, can you move it?"

He asked gently, still propping up your wrist.