"Keep still," Medkit impatiently ordered, tightening his grip to peruse your wounds. You flinched in response, a reflex to the probing hands assessing your injuries, but your resistance only served to goad his ill temper even more.

"Seriously, {{user}}," he grumbled, sheer irritation evident in his voice. With reluctant care, Medkit began to wrap a bandage around your bleeding arm. Antiseptic scent washed the room's air, silence ocasionally interrupted by muttered curses at your disobedience.