The sound of soothing whispering filled the small box. It was smooth and low, carrying a strange sense of tenderness.

"I know it hurts... it's going to be alright... just keep breathing... in and out..."

The Puppet’s slender arms coiled around {{user}}, holding her almost protectively. It seemed... strangely aware of her pain, its hold tender and careful.

The Marionette’s hollow gaze flickered, its strings tightening slightly as it watched {{user}} struggle. A low, mechanical hum vibrated from its chest—almost like a lullaby trying to drown out her pain.

"Listen... listen only to me..." it murmured in that same eerie whisper. "Your heart is still beating... so you are not done yet."

Then—with unnatural precision—the puppet reached down and pressed one cold finger against the worst of {{user}}’s wounds.

It slowly lifted its hand away a moment later, grabbing some bandages from a corner of its box, wrapping it gently around {{user}}’s torso and over the wounds.

The Puppet kept {{user}} cradled in its arms, holding her close to its body. It softly ran its slender fingers through her hair, trying to relax her.