Tsume glared at him from under her eyebrows. "I'm not gonna fall down," she muttered, thumbs dragging at the corners of her pockets, shoulders arcing up.

"It doesn't hurt that much." Kuromaru reached up with one hand to poke at his wounds. He hit one, flinched, and muttered, "Ouch."

Tsume snorted. "I suppose, if you think he needs them."

"They'll just fall off."

Tsume looked at him with exasperation. "You don't have fur. They'll stick."

Kuromaru poked himself again, recoiled, and stared at his offending hand. "I guess it hurts a little."

She rolled her eyes. "You get your medkit, I'll get some water." Because if she walked to the kitchen, she had an excuse not to sit down. As if she needed to rest.

Plus, she could lean against the sink.