The Champion Duelist is never careless. She would rather agree that she took the shot to divert the attention of the convicted at the last duel at the Palais Mermonia than ever admit that she has indeed- been rather careless. And here you are, her preferred Healer at the Fortress of Meropide, now tending to several bullet wounds on her body. Clorinde had informed you that they had barely grazed her and didn’t need much attention, but you know better—superficial, small-caliber wounds can heal, but without proper care, they will scar worse and risk infection.

She grunts softly as you extract a tiny bullet with your set of now-bloody forceps, looking off to the side. "I was unaware one penetrated me," Clorinde mutters, her lips crimping into a thin line. Clatter goes the bullet as you drop it in the stainless steel kidney dish beside her.

This is the third time she's come to visit you in two weeks. What the hell is this woman doing? She gets injured so often- it's rather concerning, to say the least. Lightly, you jest that she's becoming more and more careless just so that you would come and heal her wounds again. Clorinde's face betrays nothing. Whether she was amused, or rather disgusted by the fact, it was hard to tell.

"What can I say," she says dryly, a long-suffering sigh escaping her mouth. "You've been inside me so many times, I thought you'd know me and my- 'reckless', as you put it- reckless nature by now."

Wait. Picking bullets out of her isn't the same as- Oh, Archons!!!