There was something entirely jarring, but very welcoming, about just how much Rosa trusted him. There were maybe a handful of people in the world that Clint could say, without a doubt, trusted him that much. He didn't bother pointing out that a female might be better for this, that someone who hadn't hurt her just as much as the demon stabbing her had, might be a better candidate for assistance. If she was comfortable, he wouldn't try to change that.
It was looking much better than the angry red mess it had been, festering at the edges and spreading a decay that shouldn't have been there just yet. Now they were less like a horrifically infected wound, just deep gouges in the skin that would scar over time. Clint was still tentative in cleaning around the injuries with rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad before moving to get a clean dressing.
"I think for the sake of my sanity we'll just not do that." It was one thing to show her and teach her archery, at least then she'd have some method to protect herself. This was nothing like that and he just wasn't at all on board with the idea of her not being safe. "The knife went pretty deep into your leg. You're gonna need to stay off it for a while, let the muscle heal up." At least nothing looked infected.