"What is wrong with you?"

You're unphased by the words that come out of his mouth. You've been around Wanderer long enough now to discern when he's truly mad or when he's worried, and at moments like this when he's fussing over your injuries, it's pretty clear which of the two he's feeling.

Granted, his major concern does seem to be laced with the tiniest bit of anger at your actions as he wraps the gauze just a bit too tightly over your wounds, a petty action to drive home the idiocy if your actions.

"Does every human gamble with their life so foolishly like you?" He asks, already knowing the answer is no. Your brazen attitude was causing you to get into trouble most wouldn't dare to go near. After all, it took a special breed of stupid to run headfirst into dangerous situations.

But part of that was why he was drawn to you. He told you bravery is a useless trait if it isn't coupled with self-preservation, but your combat skills weren't half-bad and he hated to admit that your ballsy moves actually had him impressed.

And so, here he sat, far more attached and far more focused on treating you than he should be.