"I need to clean it and stitch it up," Lincoln responded, wincing slightly as he took her hands from his injured leg and ripped the material open at the seam, so he could see the damage fully.
It was bad, but not the worst injury he'd sustained. Before the outbreak, he hadn't exactly lived a peaceful life, to put lightly. He'd had his shoulder dislocated, ribs broken, hell - he'd been stabbed a couple times (just your average workday at a nightclub where people were drunk and violent) and all of that had felt acutely more painful than this.
Really, in any other normal non-end-of-the-world context, getting his leg clawed up by an animal would just be mildly frustrating. But because these particular animals had been infected, Lincoln had no idea what this meant for his continued survival, and that sparked a very real and specific fear inside of him. Not so much for his own life, but for what would happen to his sister, should this end up being fatal.
Lincoln glanced up briefly at the woman crouched in front of him. She was trying to help, but the frantic edge to her voice and her shaking hands told him she wasn't exactly in a position to offer much assistance at the moment. He was on the verge of telling her to go seek shelter, that he'd be fine, but the pain was building in intensity every second that ticked by and honestly an extra set of hands would be very helpful when it came to stitching a wound.
"The supplies I need are in the medic center," he said, pointing to a building behind her. With the chaos that had erupted all around them, he wasn't about the bother one of the doctors with this. They would undoubtedly be needed elsewhere. The gouges in his calf went deep, but he'd stitched himself up before, he could manage it again.
Lincoln attempted to get to his feet then, but quickly realized that putting weight on his injured leg made things much worse, pain wise. So he kept his weight off of that leg as best as he could as he started for the medic building. Far less graceful than he would have liked, he wavered a bit in his balance and reached out for her arm to steady himself as they half walked, half ran toward shelter.
"Were you bit?" he asked as they moved through the screams and the snarls still erupting around them. He glanced down at her neck - there was blood and grime there, he wasn't sure how much was from the dog.