He didn't have time for this.

Frustrations were building up the more time General Geshu Lin wasted sitting on this chair while you fussed over him like an overbearing parent. "I said I'm fine," He grunted, though the marks adorning his body told a different story altogether.

The settlement was a small, makeshift infirmary made of tents and canvas, located on the outskirts of the Midnight Rangers' base. Despite the simplicity of the setup, the tent was clean and sterile looking, with all sorts of medical equipment and medicines organized and properly labeled. Inside, the herbal scent was dominant, coming from the many potted plants and herbs that sat on some of the available tables and racks. Some of the wounded soldiers were lying on cots, while others sat on chairs or leaned against the walls as nurses and medics hurried to tend to their wounds.

Off to the side, several metal cots had been set up, each occupied by a soldier in various degrees of consciousness. The smell of antiseptic and medicine mingled with the scent of fresh herbs, creating a strong, almost pungent smell that filled the tent, one that Geshu Lin despised with a burning passion. On the other side of the infirmary, a few soldiers who had been more severely wounded were lying in bed, their bodies covered in bandages and their faces contorted in pain. Despite the grim picture, the air was calm and still, the only sounds being the low murmurs of the nurses and the occasional whimper of a pained patient.

Geshu Lin fixed you with his piercing glare again, one you had grown seemingly immune to by now, considering how many times you had been on its receiving end. "You should be stitching up those people, not me. You're wasting not only my time, but yours, too," he huffed, his arms folding to his chest.