Can't you tell by the signs? [o, injured]

[michael t.]

Michael had ended up injured many a time in his life. Whether it be from his father's abuse, mistakes made while he was on the run with T, or just simple mistakes. In fact, he was only just now beginning to get over the latest round of punishment his small body had been forced to endure, in the form of torture from the Lost and then the dire wolf attack. The bandages around his legs and left eye had finally come off a couple of days ago, and Michael was beginning to feel like himself again, free to wear his jewelry without worrying about any of it snagging on his mummified form and tearing things away. It also helped that not having the bandages on anymore served to distance Michael somewhat from both incidents, not feeling particularly great about either one. He was far from regretting either – after all, he had committed himself to one for Trevor and the other for Roxie, two of the only people he had ever cared about – but he still found himself tensing occasionally when the scent of blood reached his nose, or when anything vaguely canine was close. After all, the dire wolf hadn't been seen since he and Roxie had their run in with it, but that didn't mean that it was dead. Michael, much like his sister figure, had hoped that their combined abuse of the monster – Roxie ripping into it with her teeth and him shooting it in the leg with his elementals – would've eventually led to its unpleasant demise when it tried to get away. Unfortunately for everyone, but especially unfortunately for Octane, that didn't seem to be the case.

The first thing that had alerted him to something being wrong was Roxie's roar. He had only heard the female's roar once before, and it had been a roar of rage while she had been dealing with the dire wolf, so it naturally set his body on edge. It took only a moment before he was stumbling forth from his home, bandages stuffed clumsily in his jaws as he jogged down the steps. He had gotten into the habit of keeping a roll within his home, just in case he ripped something, or for scenarios like this. The fugitive's short legs could only carry him towards the rainforest so fast, but he managed to get there before long, the soft clinking together of his various pieces of jewelry announcing his presence before he could truly be seen. His eyes widened considerably when he spotted Octane, his form shivering from the phantom pains that rolled over him when he spotted the other's wounds. The thick smell of the dire wolf in the air made Michael's heart clench unpleasantly, his instincts telling him to turn tail and bolt as far away from the scene as he could manage. However, he forced his cowardly side to silence itself, mainly thanks to the help of the presence of Roxanne already there. She provided him with a feeling of safety like Trevor did, even if she wasn't exactly in fighting condition.

Both of the first two present on the scene were hardly all that skilled with medicine, but of the two of them, Michael was fairly sure that Roxie was more experienced than he was. With this in mind, the bobcat stretched his neck out to carefully place the clean roll of bandages on a nearby low hanging branch, just so that the both of them had it easily accessible. With his mouth now free for speaking, he glanced worriedly over Octane's wounds, wondering just how long ago they had been inflicted. His eyes lingered on the corpse of the rabbit nearby to the thrillseeker before he spoke to Roxie, his ears flattening down against his skull, "Is there anythin' we can do? We... we might be able to take 'im back towards the main areas, with the both of us..." It was all he could really think of to do, considering taking Octane back towards places like the tavern would make it easier for someone with medical knowledge to see to him.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]