Longshot and Smellerbee were always getting hurt around each other. They have vastly different personalities so their injuries were always different, as well as their reactions to the other getting hurt. A good example would be the first time they met.
Longshot had made a habit out of climbing trees. He was taught to hunt while waiting in trees. He was also particularly shy around...well, anyone. So instead of dealing with people or offending them when he didn't speak, he thought it best to just avoid them.
He was spending time on a high branch one afternoon, reading a book, when he heard someone approach the tree. He looked down and saw the girl he had been crushing on sit down. She took out a sketchbook and some watercolors. He didn't know she could paint. As he watched her paint, he leaned forward to get a better look. A rookie mistake. He leaned a little too far and lost his balance, falling off his branch. He hit a couple more branches on the way down, but it wasn't enough of a warning for the girl to move out of the way.
Longshot made sure to angle himself so he landed next to her. He was successful but the girl shrieked and recoiled. He just laid there for a moment, not knowing what to do. She decided to act first.
"What the hell?!" She got up and walked over to him. "Were you spying on me or something?" Longshot panicked and pointed over to his book that had landed nearby. Her eyes followed. "You were reading in the tree?" He nodded.
He gave her a look that said, 'I'm not much of a fan of people.' Of course she didn't know exactly what he was trying to say, but she knew the gist.
"Yeah, I don't like being around a bunch of people all the time either." Longshot was shocked she understood him.
She sighed. "I guess I can forgive you." She stuck out her hand to help him up and he accepted it. When he stood up he saw her staring, horrified, at his leg. He looked down to see his pants were torn and soaked through with blood.
"Oh geez, you're hurt." She took his hand and pulled him over to her bag and sat him down. She dug through her bag and took out a small first aid kit. She ignored his questioning look as she cleaned the wound.
"I injure myself too often. It's only smart to start carrying this with me." They sat in silence for a moment before she broke it again. "Ya know, it's kind of your dumb ass fault for not balancing yourself. If you're not gonna secure yourself in, you better be on high alert and keep steady. You seem like the kind of guy that's used to being in high locations to hide yourself, so you made a bullshit move." Longshot would be offended but he was surprised by her knowledge of hunting and stealthiness. She still didn't look at him, but her expression softened.
"Careful, this is gonna sting." She sprayed the wound but he didn't feel a thing, staring at her. She finished by wrapping his leg. "There, I think you'll live." She smiled at him. Longshot didn't move. She was an enigma to him. All fiery, then worried, then sassy, then caring. She was something different.
She got uncomfortable under his stare so she picked up her sketchpad. It was a painting of a half-finished flower with a bumblebee on it. The rest was covered with spilt paint. Longshot gave her an apologetic look.
"Don't worry about it. I actually kinda like this better." She turned to him and stuck out her hand again. "They call me Smellerbee." Longshot smiled and shook it. To this day, he still has that painting hanging in his room. It reminded him of the accident that led him to meet his bee.