Yura didn't respond. She guided Syris gently down to sit on the edge of the bed, her touch firm but respectful, never lingering where it wasn't needed.
Then she turned away, retrieving water, cloth, salve. Yura sighed, she didn't know what the hell she was doing, she couldn't do much, they'll have to call the physician.
The sides were her ribs where was soft, she couldn't confirm if it was just bruised or if it was broken.
When she knelt in front of her again, Syris felt it like a shift in the air.
The first touch of the damp cloth made her hiss despite herself.
Yura immediately lightened her pressure. "I know.." she murmured. "I'm sorry."
"…Don't hesitate.." Syris said, voice tight. "If you do, I'll think you're disgusted."
Yura looked up at her.
Her gaze was steady, there was no solemnity or contempt in her eyes.
Syris sucked in a cold sharp breath, she knew her words wasn't going to affect this woman.
"I'm not. If I'm not gentle enough tell me. I'll ease my hands."
