Leia Organa // Galen Marek
Leia made no protests as he took a glance at her shoulder, the pain was duller when her arm was kept still, but she had no doubt it must have already looked swollen, or red at the very least around that area. As she held onto the holster, she kept an eye out for trouble, as best she could, glancing as he crafted a makeshift sling for her, feeling vaguely guilty as he completely ruined what had looked to be a very nice, probably brand new shirt. It hurt as he fitted and tied it, Leia biting her lip against it so as not to put him off; but the relief that the support of the sling brought was near immediate. “Thank you.” She offered, sincerely. “That feels better.”
She couldn’t touch the wound on her brow, free hand taken by the blaster once she’d handed his holster back to him, but it only stung a little, it had that prickle that must have meant it was dried. “I’m not bleeding-” She insisted. She had been bleeding, right? It wasn’t a problem now. Though she didn’t want to admit the way she felt right now, a well-made, heavy jacket felt it might be near enough to weigh her down. She didn’t have the ability to take it off now though. “And I can see just fine-” It was clearing. Maybe. Probably. She knew who and where she was and that was a good enough measure to know she’d be fine, wasn’t it?
He’d started guiding her back, and she was in a state less able to protest, at least physically. “Wait- wait-” She insisted, not entirely ready to throw it in yet, the Princess feeling torn in the direction of still being able to do something, small as it may be. “We could do a last sweep of the street- clear it?” Moving them on, helping them find safety, her expression an appeal. Well, she hoped it was, she was fighting the encroaching feeling of lethargy.