“No, I just asked to make small talk.”, his reply was filled with a chuckle and a smile that could be heard instead of seen in the darkness. The Templar kept his back to her though, letting her work slowly. “Oh I’m sure there are some women with the strength of will to resist the idea of attempting to get a Templar out of his armor. Not many, but some.”
Thoughts and the ability to speak were swept away when that powder touched his wound. He drew in a hissing breath, a long one. He didn’t move, but his eyes slid shut at the sudden fire I his back. His shoulders became taunt and hard lines, and his fingers clenched white-knuckled around the fabric of the rough blanket that lay on the cot. “Let me think about it.”, he replied in a tight voice. He could feel the needle tug and slide though the ragged edges of his cut. He did his best not to move under her skilled fingers. It wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, but Azabeth had a neat and quick technique that left him without the distraction of steel in his back soon enough.
“Slept actually,” Aurin replied with a wry smile as he began to turn towards the redhead. His eyes opened, still wide from the shock and pain. Slowly the sapphire chips returned to something more normal. “Even if the chantry pews were a bit uncomfortable. The sermons always put me to sleep, they just drone on and on.”, he straightened his shoulders though before he fixed the woman with a wry grin. “…now are you going to close your eyes to get this or do you not trust me enough for that?