An eager claw trailed down your arm, drawing a hiss from you every time it dragged over your wounds. They were bandaged but the beastkin could feel the empty holes hollowed out by nails in your flesh. “I’m afraid you’ll still be doing shows, pet,” he sneers, but his smile quickly fades. His face turns deadpan, eyes flickering towards you from under his eyebrows. His head didn’t move. “Healing comes first. It’ll take maybe 2 weeks worth, and for that eye of yours… don’t worry.”