Loamhedge Orphanage

The orphanage's infirmary. Kept warm through a fireplace (actually just the other side of the common room's chimney, funny enough), it is a small room with a few beds. Its further furnishings are up to the resident medic on staff.

Feral's attempts of escaping tended to end in two ways: Either the caretakers or villagers saw him wandering outside of the orphanage and dragged him back inside, or he hit himself so bad that he would go to the infimary on his own. And this was one of those times. It wasn't something that serious nor new: During his escape he tried to climb from the bedroom's window to one of the trees, but slipped with the window's iced frame. Luckily for him, the branches softened his fall, but didn't kept him from getting more than a few bruises on his face and limbs, as well as a big, red, bloody nose. None of those things that would have stopped him before, but given that the bloody shirt and face would be easy to recognize on the snow, he had decided to call it a day for the time being.
Now there he was, rumagging throught the cabinets with one hand as the other held the end of his white shirt thightly against his nose, easily bored of waiting for the resident medic to come by after only a few moments at the infimary.

A man entered the infirmary -- notably, not the infirmary's keeper, that was plain immediately. No massive claws, broad form or big, bushy tail. No, this man was human, wearing all grey and green -- rather tall, slim, with a beard and hair much the colour of his attire, his skin a little paled with age, though it should have been rather tan. The clothing's fit, fabric and design spoke of wealth, but not of pretension, without embroidery, slashing or much detail besides the green trimmings.

He paused, clearly having come in here expecting to talk to Marle -- not to run into a bloody-nosed wild child. He opened his mouth, a little taken aback -- seemingly caught off guard in the middle of important business -- and then knelt by the child. "Are you all right?" He asked, a little awkwardly, but with genuine care in his rather surprisingly deep voice for the weedy-old-man frame.

As soon as the door’s creaking met his ears, the boy stopped his rummaging throught the cupboards, freezing in place as he expected the voice of of the furry medic scolding him for the mess he was making. Letting out an annoyed sigh under the stained fabric, he turned around begrudgingly only to be surprised as his companion at the infirmary was not the medic, but an old man that he couldn’t recall seeing around the orphanage. With no intentions to conceal his surprise at the unexpected visitor (and so far, relief that it wasn’t Marlene who came through the door), Feral tilted his head to the side, letting out a small “Huh?” that was muffled by the end of the shirt that he still held firmly against his nose.

Still, that he was relieved didn’t mean he was any les defensive, and stepped back as soon as the man knelt next to him, his free hand ready to fish the first thing he could to hit him and run; an old habit from back at the tribe that didn’t wear off with the years “I’m goo...” With an annoyed groan, he let go of the shirt once he realized how much it muffled his voice. “I’m good. Who are ya? You ain’t from ‘ere…” He growled, mistrustful and always at a safe distance, with that annoyed expression that seemed to be locked on his face.

Linwood hurried into the infirmary, freezing in the doorway with his hands clamped over his ears. Feral he knew and recognized, but who was that old man knelt beside him? Carefully, he stepped around the two, finding the bin of water on the counter and dunking his bloody hands in it before starting to remove the wrappings around them. He kept an eye on the old stranger.

Poking his head from behind the man's shoulder, Feral once again had expected the sound of the creaking door to be the caused by Marlene, and once again he was surprised when he saw Linwood entering the Infimary.

"Tree-Boy?" He called, cocking an eyebrow. He could recall the boy tossing something at the teacher before when tthey where in the classroom, but he didn't really understood the whole situation at the time. Still, he was even more surprised by the blood on his hands. Swiflty dodging the old man, he reached closer towards where Linwood was. His lower face and shirt where still covered in drying blood, but furtunately the bleeding on his nose seemed to have seased. "What ya doin' 'ere? And why you bleedin'?" He asked, tilting his head with a confused expression, but the words still came out as in a bit aggresive tone, as usual.

Lin left the cloth at the bottom of the bin; he knew he'd have to replace all of the water anyway, now that it was tinged red. He untied the band around his head next, balling it up and cleaning himself up as best he could before tossing it in the water as well. He let his hands sit in the water afterwards, just because it felt nice on the smarting scars across his palms.

"What?" he asked Feral, wide-eyed like he hadn't heard what he said. He noticed the mess his friend was in and tilted his head to look him over. "What happened to you?" Although he was worried, there was also a tinge of defensiveness in his voice.

Lin continued to glance over his shoulder at the old man every once in a while, just to make sure he wasn't trying anything funny.

"I fell from 'e window." Feral said in a casual tone, shrugging it off. By that time it was widely tought across the whole orphanage that Feral must have survived that far out of luck and luck only. Either that, or the gods really enjoyed seeing him getting hurt.

Curious, the wild boy reached closed, peeking at the bloody water on the bin. "What did ya hurt yerself with?" He asked, more curiousness that actual anger on his voice, as he pointed the soaked bandages floating.

(OOC: Sorry for the delay ;_; )

Lin didn't say anything at first, choosing to respond with tight-lipped silence despite the fact that the conditions were good enough that he could both hear and see everything Feral had said. He idly scraped the blood that had gotten underneath his nails.

"You should be more careful," he finally spoke, ignoring Feral's question and going back to how he'd bloodied his nose. "I don't want to be picking up your chores." Lin regained a small smile at the joke.

((It's fine ovo))

He stopped a brief moment, before repliyng. It was something harsh to think about, but the tribe's men weren't exactly kind; Exepting is "Nana" they cared little about his wellfare and more of how useful he was being for the group. It still disarmed him every now and then when people arround the orphanage worried over his wounds.

"Yeah, yeah, Imma be more careful..." He grunted, scratching his nape. "After all, If ya did me chores you'd probably screw it up." He continued the joke, giving a quick glance to the bloodied bandages.

"...Hey, ya got those dirty, didn't ya?" He asked, pointing at the wet fabric. " I saw one o' these in the box thing, if ya need 'em." Feral offered, pointing to the rummaged cabinet. It was a rare sight, but from time to time the wild boy had those lapsus of kindness, or what he tought to be so.

"Precisely," Lin responded with a short nod. "And then you'd have chores and fixing my mess to do." He picked up a brush from the counter and began gently scrubbing one of the strips of cloth with one hand, the other holding the strip against the side of the water bin. Two crossed scars were visible on each palm now, raised and red looking, with a lump in the middle where whatever it was that had caused them had gouged deeper.

Feral was one of the few people he felt tolerably comfortable with letting see this, because he was young and, although a bit agressive, rather innocent, and also because be felt some kinship with him with how closely they were both tied to nature. He made sure to keep his back to the stranger.

Lin looked over in the direction he pointed. "Thank you," he said. "Now I won't have to idle about while these dry."

"Yeah! And if I had to do all that crap, i'd beat ya up! " He remarked, with amusement in his voice. He reached for the cabinet taking out a lump that could only be the bandages the boy was talking about, tangled thanks to his recent rumagging. Dodging the silent stranger he walked back next to Linwood, handing him the tangle before taking a seat in one of the infimary's litters. From there, he spent a few seconds staring at the other boy's hands, inspecting the wounds in silence.

"Why ain't they healed?" Feral asked after a while, looking at the Bajisha with curious eyes. In all the time he had been on the orphanage, he had seen him without the bandages just once or twice, and the would where always the same. "Shouldn't 'em be healed by now?"

((OOC: Given that Lin feelt comfortable showing him the wounds I thought Feral may had seen them before. But if you dont like it i have no troubles with editing it up xD)

After a brief knock at the door, Kiro's head emerged in the doorway as he peeked around cautiously. "Um... Lin...?" He asked, hoping he was loud enough. "Oh you're um... in a conversation... I-I can wait if you want but... the girls are still a little shaken..."

He glanced behind him, expecting Gim to be there. He gave a small shrug in that direction whilst waiting to see if he would get a reply from Lin, at the same time trying to make sure Gim couldn't see into the room. He didn't know how squeemish she was, and although he kept to himself enough to not have had a good look at Lin's wounds, the blood from earlier was enough of a reason to be cautious.

Gim would cling to Kiro's legs a little, although she would start brushing her tail fur to relieve her anxiety. She wasn't able to peep in but hey Kiro was being the brave one here.

Lin jumped at the sound of the knocking on the door and looked over his shoulder to see who it was. It was just Kiro, probably to check in on him, and he soon after spotted a tuft of fluff behind him that could only be Gimbold.

He gave Feral an indifferent shrug as he laid out the wet, but relatively clean, strips of cloth on the side of the bin to dry out. He carefully dried off his hands on his pants before taking the tangle from Feral. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Oh, uh," Lin spoke up to Kiro. He turned and leaned back against the bin, hiding his hands against his chest as he wrapped them back up. "Sorry... I can go." He glanced over at Feral before heading over to Kiro.

Kiro nodded to Lin then gave Feral a half-awkward, half-apologetic glance; hoping he didn't mind having Linwood taken away for the time being. Before doing anything else, the white-haired 12-year-old glanced over at Gim to make sure she was ok as Lin approached.

"The other one is still in the kitchen..." Kiro said. "Last I looked, she was... well..." he sighed. "Memories, I think," he reasoned.

Despite having no traumatic memories himself, Kiro was very logically-minded and had been at the orphanage long enough to know that many kids ended up there because of unfortunate events. He understood trauma, even if he could not empathise.

For a moment, he tried to think of something to add about the situation without potentially upsetting Linwood again. Then he decided that it was better to keep quiet and let the other three work things out in their own way.

Before going anywhere, he waited for a moment to see if Lin and Gim wanted to interact at all.

Gim peered around the door after a bit, hearing Lin's voice. "Um... I'm sorry Lin," she said quietly. She knew Kiro had said that she probably wasnt the cause of it but heck, she was still learning and how could she know for sure?

She was at fault for most of the time any way for things in her experience so it was better to just apologize.

Lin gave Kiro an understanding nod, looking at the ground in thought. He already felt bad about what he did, scaring those two poor girls, but... memories, that was right.

He looked up again when he saw Gimbold peek in and speak. "Oh, no no no," he said. "Don't be sorry-- you didn't do anything, Gim." His eyes slid back to his hands, and he quickly finished wrapping up the other one before tying another around his head like a hair band. Lin took a moment to push his memories out of the way and focus on what he needed to do: apologize to Raven.

"I'll talk to her," he told Kiro, then glanced back at Feral. "You want to come, or you gonna keep an eye on our visitor?"

Feral followed the discussion in silence, giving a sunspicious glance at the two children who had entered the infimary, his aggresive demeanor starting to show up once again. He was trying to make out what had exactly happened, but couldn't really figure out a single thing what they where talking about.

"Aye, sure." He finally answered, shrugging his shoulders before getting off the bench. "He aint' lookin' like he's gonna much, anyway..." He brushed some drying blood off his chin, in a futile attempt to clean the red mess on his face, and turned to see the infimary one last look: With the mess he had made, he was better anywhere else in the orphanage than there in any case.

Kiro nodded to Lin and awkwardly patted Gim on the head before walking back over to the Dining Hall, gesturing lazily for the others to follow. Though he felt like it wasn't his place to stick around with the group, he was eager to make sure everything ended well. He didn't like leaving a job half-done and he would miss out on the warm and fuzzy feeling of helping out.