For the very brief moment when James thought Amarissa was going to take her shirt clean off, he managed to hold his tongue. False alarm anyway, so definitely for the best that he hadn't said anything. And then there it was, an angry looking entry point in her side. All in all it wasn't in bad shape, but James opened his mouth, regardless.
"Don't they give you instructions when they release you back into the wild?" he asked, only afterward recalling to sincerely hope didn't quite answer. He was sitting up and learning closer, reaching out to pull the bandages away from her with the same entitled air he adopted with Remus after the full. When it came to injuries it seemed anyone with a lick of pride would try to brush you off unless you just marched in an acted like you had every right to check in on them. "These really ought to be changed."
Really, as far as James was concerned there far better ways to dress a wound. At least the it was far from the worst thing James had ever seen. Even Remus' knack for getting himself scraped up didn't come close to some of the things they'd seen during the war. First war, he corrected in his head. It looked like it would probably scar a little, but with the right sort of care that could be diminished. Out of habit he rested his hand on a smooth portion of nearby skin as he peered a bit closer. Taking into account that it had only recently been treated, he reckoned the swelling would probably be gone by the morning. Not that you couldn't help those things along a little.
"Summon your medical bag, would you?" he said, ranking a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes.