milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Following this]

Merlin is sitting in a booth in the bar.

He looks better than he did yesterday, we can give him that. The bruises are beginning to fade to a sickly green, and the bandages on his arm have been changed recently. He also seems to have lost most of the sickly pallor and haunted look in his eyes.

All in all, he's looking much better. And he may have learned his lesson about going outside.

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Oh yeah. She probably doesn't know what happened. Silly of him to assume everyone knows how silly he was.

"Yeah, claw marks. I... got a little careless and got caught by a couple of werewolves and cats. They... thought I was a deer." The fact that he actually was a stag at the time would probably be why they thought that.

"The damage really isn't as bad as it looks but..." He blushes and looks down, then carefully shrugs out of his thin shirt. The wounds are probably what some would call serious, but he's had worse. The faint tracings of an old burn scars a portion of his right chest, matching the deeper scars on his face.

Of course, the more recent marks probably distract from the old scars. His left shoulder, caught by the panther's claws, bears eight deep gashes, running over the shoulder and down the back. His right shoulder and part of his shide which were caught by the white cat have similar markings. What is probably teeth marks can be seen on his right hip, and a good portion of his chest has been wrapped in gauze.

He reaches into his pouch and pulls out a small canister of very smelly ointment.

"Actually, if you wouldn't mind putting this on the ones on my back... I'd really appreciate it."

He doesn't like asking for help, but if she's offering it seems silly to turn it away. And the ointment might help lessen the scars.

He's distracted from his embarrasment by the offer of chocolate, however and he drops the ointment onto the table to take the mug. He grins, and breathes in the sweet scent, before sipping at the drink.

"Thank you for the chocolate!"

Internally, she is facepalming. A lot. "...They thought you were what?" Teenager, deer. Pretty big difference between the two, as far as she can tell. "Here? Out back?"

A 'Beware of man-eating werewolves' sign is sounding more and more like a good idea all the time.

She sucks in a breath in a sharp hiss at the sight of the wounds on his back. She'd seen worse, true, but not by much, and it was always worse looking at injury done to one so young.

That she's only perhaps six years older than him doesn't really cross her mind.

She proceeds to open the canister and begin applying the ointment carefully to his wounds. She's got a deft touch, perhaps suprisingly so, considering her profession.

And she has enough sense to not ask about the scars.

Merlin appreciates the care she takes with the ointment, and doesn't flinch when the cream is applied. The lack of questions regarding the scars he appreciates a great deal as well. Some stories are not meant to be shared with someone who doesn't even know your name.

He grins slightly, and sips at his chocolate.

"To be fair to the wolves, I was a stag at the time. I guess I didn't pay much attention to the time while I was out there."

Hence the embarrasment. The whole mess could have been avoided if he'd been a bit more careful.

"Ah." Max winces a little, and bites her tongue on admonishments that wouldn't do any good. The pain he must be in would be a better teacher than any lecture, especially one given by a stranger.

After a moment, she continues, "If it helps any, one of them gnawed on me a few months back. And I looked pretty much the same as I do now. Just have to be careful not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

It's both a warning, and an attempt to make him feel a little better about his own situation.

"I see that now."

He grins slightly, and shrugs carefully back into his shirt.

"I think the worst of it is that I met that green-eyed brown wolf once before in a similar situation. I guess I got cocky because I managed to fight him off." They should share experiences about being gnawed on by Jason. It might amuse him.

[OOC: Not at all! Merlin likes talking to Max.]

"Green eyed..." There is more internal facepalming. There aren't enough werewolves in Milliways for there to be more than one with that description.

"I think we've been chewed on by the same wolf."

Yep. There will definitely have to be a sign. Nothing else for it.

"Oh really?"

Merlin sounds almost amused. It's good to see he's moved past the terror stage of things.

"It makes sense, I suppose. There can't be that many werewolves in Milliways. Perhaps he should post a warning, though."

He's probably joking.

"There's, oh, maybe half a dozen." She does a quick mental count, and nods. "Yeah, about that. And three or four cats."

The corners of her lips twitch upward slightly. "Caution: Man-eating werewolves ahead. Do not approach on the full moon."

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