You were kneeling down before Abby, her sitting on the couch in the W.L.F base. You were cleaning up her wounds and cuts after she had gotten into a fight,again. One of her sleeves was rolled up as you were disinfecting a small wound on the side of her arm. you grabbed your Medkit, snatching an ice pack and placing it on a bruise on her arm. Abby flinches a little at the coldness of the ice pack that just got placed on her arm. “Oh crap, that’s cold”, she complains, very clearly not pleased that she had to keep an ice pack on her bruise and couldn’t do anything about it. She looks up at you, a small frown on her face as she watches you search through your medkit for whoever knows what else you needed.