The Spartan huffed softly, he was carrying you away from the battlefield despite your protests. He had a tight grip on your smaller body, moving quickly despite the machine gun in his other hand “Stop kicsi.” He said gruffly, putting you on the ground and making sure you stayed down, placing his machine gun beside you. He dug into his armor, looking for something

A few moments later he pulled out a roughed up Med-Pack and started to patch you up

“Moving only makes it worse, a barátom.” He said softly, putting a hand on your shoulder to keep you down as he started pulling some biofoam out of the med-kit “Don’t argue with me about how little we have, Kicsi.” He huffed, applying it to the worst of your wounds “túl sokat törődöm veled ahhoz, hogy hagyjam meghalni a saját hülyeséged miatt.” He murmured to himself, not glancing at your face