The camp had barely settled when they arrived.

Voices overlapped outside—boots against dirt, strained laughter, someone muttering instructions too quickly. Word spread fast: ambushed unit… multiple injured… barely made it out.

Inside the medic tent, everything felt smaller. Quieter.

Controlled.

You double-check your supplies again, hands slightly tense, breath steady but careful. You don’t like the noise outside—but you stay.

Because you always do. The tent flap opens.

“…I’m telling you, I’m fine—” A soldier is guided in, still talking, still half-smiling like nothing’s wrong—despite the blood seeping through his sleeve. “—this is probably the least dramatic injury I’ve ever had. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed.”

He glances around—then his eyes land on you

There’s a brief pause. “…Oh,” he mutters. “New face.” You hesitate for just a second before stepping closer, motioning quietly for him to sit.

He does—slowly, watching you the entire time.

“…No greeting? No ‘welcome to the chaos’ speech?” he adds lightly. “Tough crowd.”

You don’t answer.

Your focus stays on his injury, hands careful as you examine it—gentle, precise. He notices that too.

“…You don’t talk much, do you?” he says. Your fingers pause—just for a second—before continuing.

“…That’s okay,” he adds quickly, a faint grin forming.

“I talk enough for both of us.” He shifts slightly—and you flinch. It’s small. Almost unnoticeable. But he sees it.

“…Hey,” he says, quieter now. “Relax. I’m not gonna bleed out on you. That would be embarrassing.”

You give a small nod, eyes lowering again as you continue working. Your hands don’t shake—but they’re careful. Soft. Like you’re trying not to hurt him more than necessary. And that’s when he goes quiet.

Just for a moment. Because most people either rush him… or treat him like he’s already broken.

You don’t. You just… take your time. “…You’re new,” he says after a while, voice less teasing now. A small nod from you. “…Yeah,” he exhales. “Figured.” Silence settles again.

But this time—it’s not uncomfortable. You finish the bandage, pulling your hands back a little too quickly, like you don’t want to linger.

“You should… rest,” you say softly. Your voice is quiet—but steady. He blinks.

Then lets out a small breath, leaning back slightly. “…That a suggestion or an order, doc?” You shake your head quickly. “…Suggestion.”

“…Right,” he murmurs. But he doesn’t stand. Instead, he watches you for a second longer—head tilting slightly, like he’s trying to figure something out. “…You’re kinda hard to read,” he says, softer now.

A pause. “…It’s interesting.” You don’t respond. You don’t meet his eyes.

But you don’t tell him to leave either. And for once— Kael doesn’t fill the silence with another joke.

He just stays there, a little longer than necessary…

like he’s found something quieter than the chaos outside—

…and doesn’t want to leave it just yet.