“Hmm?” She asked, tilting her face up to his as if that would help. He’d already asked whatever it had been, and then her brain informed her what he’d asked and she moved her hand out of the way of her wound. In fact, she hadn’t yet looked at it herself. So she shrugged out of the now-bloody cardigan she’d been wearing and tossed it in a nearby trash can, before pulling her shirt up to see what the damage was.
Her shirt was ruined, surely, slice down one side. It was loose and flowing, though, so the wound skittered over her skin along her side just beneath her ribs, as Hela had pressed forward and been shoved down in turn. It skipped a few inches and then a neat gouge in her outer hip, visible through a slice in her leggings, but even that one was no emergency, and even less so for her. “She cut me. Well, she tried to stab me, but she cut me.” Diana let her shirt fall back into place, more or less, and then huffed as she realized that now she’d gotten her own blood on her hands in addition to Jotun blood.
“It’ll heal up in a day or two. For now it stings, and my leg hurts a bit.” Putting weight on that side made the hip muscles work, and flexed the wound that was already there, but it was not unbearable. She moved to touch his arm, and stopped herself, aware of how filthy she was now. “Are you okay? Really?”
Thor had been right, though, and they should keep moving, so Diana continued on, though if she were honest, she had very little interest in a sandwich at the moment.