[Despite himself, he can't suppress a momentary flinch at the first brush of her fingers. It's just— Beasts don't usually touch like this, slow and careful and searching. They live roughly, die violently, know little of gentleness, throw themselves into displays of over-the-top physicality.....and only two Beasts out of the entire race have wanted to be as close to him as Mercy was now for reasons that weren't "stab the traitor dead".
He focuses on breathing in, out, regular as the ocean tide, until he finds his center again. There's no shake to his voice when he replies.]
A couple of hours old, at a guess, not counting time spent in stasis.
[The wound looks older than that, however, further along the road to recovery than what an ordinary human's biology could boast. It doesn't seem infected so much as messy, clearly ignored and left to heal on its own.]
no subject
He focuses on breathing in, out, regular as the ocean tide, until he finds his center again. There's no shake to his voice when he replies.]
A couple of hours old, at a guess, not counting time spent in stasis.
[The wound looks older than that, however, further along the road to recovery than what an ordinary human's biology could boast. It doesn't seem infected so much as messy, clearly ignored and left to heal on its own.]