[If she wasn't glaring at him before, she certainly is now. Her mouth hangs in open outrage, and she half-sputters, half-curses at him as her eyes dart between Cid and the blanket in front of him.]
You want me to—? For what!?
[She is not taking off her shirt, thank you very much, and she almost wraps her arm around herself in defense, but stops herself when she feels the sting and the ache and all the other myriad of things that are happening at her shoulder.]
no subject
You want me to—? For what!?
[She is not taking off her shirt, thank you very much, and she almost wraps her arm around herself in defense, but stops herself when she feels the sting and the ache and all the other myriad of things that are happening at her shoulder.]
No.