Hensley. That was familiar. But not Talia’s first concern. “Well, Mr. Hensley,” Talia started, “looks like you’ve done a number to yourself.” She took note of what he’d said about his pain threshold she also took note of the wheezing hiss of a cough. Ribs, most likely, though he hadn’t reacted like they were broken. Probably just bruised. If she felt it was important she’d do an x-ray, but she thought she’d be able to ascertain the damage with a simple exam. There was no use wasting resources when she was just as capable of using other, simpler methods.
“Though, to be honest, I’m unsurprised if you’re as much of a trouble magnet as you proposed.” She gently felt the breaks in his fingers. He was lucky, they were minor enough that setting and splinting them would be all she would need to do. “Would you mind telling me what happened?” They had seen a few injuries already this week that didn’t quite match his, but were in the same vein.
Getting to work on his fingers, she bit her lip absently, concentrating on getting it set properly. It wouldn’t do any good to allow his fingers to heal crooked. “Or, oh, let me guess, you had a run in with an infected and barely made it out with your life,” she guessed. Maybe most people wouldn’t, but she already knew that he hadn’t had a run-in with a zombie, no, whoever had done this damage had been a regular old human. Or so the catalog of injuries were telling her. “Or was it a random run in with a very large dog?”
Once she was finished with the fingers, and she had tried to make the whole process as painless as possible she moved on the head wound, cleaning it off. Whistling under her breath once she got a good look at it. It wasn’t the worst she’d seen by a long shot, but it was the most serious she’d seen in a while.