Julian was simply going to chalk all of this up to sleep deprivation and a very long day dealing with an irate Saint Bernard. And fur caught in his brain or something. But he was simply going to pretend she was some form of were and get on with his life. "Let's pretend you're a wererodent for half a second," he said, releasing the arm he'd grabbed. He'd probably hurt her pretty badly and felt sorry immediately. "You're still hurt, so let me look at that shoulder. Fixing a human and fixing an animal are two different things," he told her. He gave animals a very similar sympathy but human bodies were a little more complicated. His degree didn't allow him to necessarily treat humans but he'd set enough were bones and his own to know how to make sure nothing was hurting anymore. All things considered, fixing his own injuries from football should have earned him some sort of college credit. Not that he didn't practically heal on his own...but still.
"It's not about the payment," Julian rolled his eyes. "I didn't become a vet for the money and fame," he said, catching the end of the scrubs top she was wearing (his) because he didn't want to hurt her arm any further and tugging her towards the examination table. Women. Why did they have to be so flipping difficult? The twins howled behind him, bored.