"There was no need to go that far..." I muttered, looking down at my torso after Ivy had finally finished her methodical work. In my opinion, she'd gone significantly overboard with the bandaging—my entire upper body was now wrapped in what felt like several rolls' worth of medical gauze and tape, making me look like some kind of mummy from a low-budget horror film.
I could barely move without feeling the restrictive pull of bandages wound so tightly they might as well have been a straightjacket. Every breath made the wrappings shift slightly, creating a sensation that was simultaneously protective and claustrophobic. White gauze covered my chest, shoulders, arms, and back in overlapping layers that suggested Ivy had been determined not to leave a single square inch of damaged skin exposed to potential infection.
