jeffgilhouse

[falskihundr]

[ bloody ] !

This was . . . a shock. Not that Octavio had managed to get himself into some situation that resulted in personal injury. No, that was a daily--if not hourly--occurrence.

But that he had sought Bloodhound, of all people, out for aid? That was unexpected. Neither of them were particularly close, and Bloodhound's feelings were . . . complicated. They did not blame the son for the sins of the father, but- well, it was impossible to ignore Octavio's involvement with the Syndicate.

"Ah, Octane," they stammered, after a moment of staring from their doorway. "Here, félagi, let me assist you."

Quickly, the hunter pulled a roll of gauze from one of the satchels draped across their chest, moving closer to staunch however much of the bleeding that they could. "Are you in trouble? Is there anything I can do?"