Waking up was always a pleasant experience for Maribelle. From the warm kiss of the golden rays on her cheeks as the sun crept over the horizon, to the soft embrace of the sheets trapping her in a cocoon of silk and the strong arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Her eyes flew open. Her mouth followed not a second later, and she shrieked.

An eruption of limbs ensued. Arms and legs flew everywhere, tugging the sheet this way and that, and she was fairly sure a finger got stuck in her mouth.

By the end of it all, she found her back on the ground, her dress soaking in the dewdrops scattered over the grass.

"What in Naga's name was that?" she yelled. She tried to push herself away and was rewarded with a sharp pain in her leg.

"My face..." the man groaned, sitting up.

"What? No!"

"You don't hold back, do you?" The man rubbed a hand over his face, half in an effort to wipe the sleep from his eyes, half to check for cuts. "Do you ever trim your nails? I don't think anyone's allowed to have nails as long as yours unless they're old and wrinkly and spend their days tending to a cauldron."

Maribelle looked offended at that. "Excuse me? I am not a witch! My nails are a perfectly acceptable length for a lady." She huffed, and she reached up to rub the back of her head. "Immaculate and graceful, as someone of my standing should be. That, and it's a fine weapon for fending off lechers."

"Me? A lecher? Buttercup, I would never!" The man paused, and he looked away. "Not intentionally, anyway."

"Then how did I end up in your bed, hm? What, are you going to say I just threw myself in with someone like you?"

The man coughed suspiciously. "Say, that bandage looks awfully loose. You wouldn't mind if I took care of it for you?"

"Don't stray from the point!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Maribelle hissed as her sharp nail brushed against raw skin. She brought her hand back around, and found the tip dipped in red. The man had been right about her bandages being loose, not that she'd ever admit it.

She tried reaching around to tighten it herself, but her hands clumsily fumbled around each other, slipping over the cloth and into her golden hair. Any attempt to grasp at the ends slipped through her fingers, and when she did grab one, she could never seem to find the other.

"Sweetheart, you don't have eyes on the back of your head," the man said. "Let me–"

"I'm fine! I've got it all under control," Maribelle snapped, just as the ends of the bandages slipped out of her hands yet again.

Heat began to build in her cheeks, just like her temper. So I can tie a bandage around someone else's wounds, but not my own? she thought. How idiotic!

One more time, she tried to get a grip on her bandage. She managed to snag the ends easily. When it came to tying it together, her damned fingers were less useful than a quill drenched in grease.

"Naga dammit!" With a frustrated scream, she hurled the piece of cloth across the tent.

The man glanced over at the bandage lying in the grass. When his gaze slid back to her, she gave him a glare.

Sighing, the man bent over to pluck the bandage from the floor. "This is my only shirt, you realize?" he said. "I don't have any others you could tear up, should you lose this."

"Oh please. You have trousers, don't you?"

The man froze. His hand fell to his belt, clutching it tightly. "You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't. But wouldn't you?"

"What does that even mean?"

Maribelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you'd love to tell your comrades how you 'tore up your pants for a lady', no?"

His face lit up like a candle. "No! I mean... you see..."

"Don't try to act modest. You dragged me into your bed!"

"I didn't! If anything, you dragged me!"

"That sounds nothing like me," Maribelle said. "Surely you must have heard wrong. I'd never do something so vulgar."

"Yes, well I was going to let you have the mat to yourself, but you kept insisting it was 'improper to let me sleep on the floor'."

Maribelle frowned. "Nevermind, that does sound like me. But you should have stopped me!"

"As I said, you don't hold back. When you grab on with those sharp nails of yours, you never let go."

"Too weak to pry yourself out of my grasp?"

"More like you were clinging to me, like you were afraid I'd leave you alone."

"Oh, shut your trap and come over here. My bandages won't re-apply themselves, you realize."

The man chuckled nervously. Maribelle thought the feeling was a little misplaced; if anything, she should be the nervous one, especially as he disappeared from her sight.

"Remember to shift the bandage, alright? I don't want the same bloody spot pressed to the back of my head," she said.

"Oh, yes! I remembered."

From the shuffling she saw from the corner of the eye, she could tell he hadn't. It wasn't as if she could fault him, though. She huffed, and reached down to scratch an itch on her leg.

"Is your leg alright? You're scratching it an awful lot."

"I'd know if my leg wasn't alright. As long as it's been cleaned, a little itch is nothing to fret about." Her lips pulled down after a second of thought. "I did tell you to clean my wounds, right?"

"Clean your what?" The bandage tightened around her head.

The sound that came out of her mouth felt almost inhuman. Her head snapped over to the man, her eyes burning holes into his skulls, and he backed away immediately.

"Is there something wrong?"

"You dolt! You need to clean the wound before applying the bandage so it doesn't get infected!" Maribelle took a swing at him. He leaned back, and her fist met air.

"Hey," he said, raising his hands before him, "I'm not used to dressing my own wounds."

"Really? Who? The women you seduce? Is that why you resort to philandering?"

The man looked quite taken aback by that. "Do you truly take me for someone so uncouth? Flirting is just good fun for me. Besides, I have friends." His face twisted into a grimace. "I had friends," he said a second later.

Maribelle's eyebrow shot up. "I find that hard to believe. I mean, who in their right mind would put up with your idiocy? That's what I'd like to know."

"Me too." The laugh that followed was oddly dry.

"Well? Are you going to finish, or am I going to have to spend the day with a bandage hanging halfway off my head?"

"I'll get to it, don't worry buttercup." The man leaned back over, and resumed wrapping her bandages.

A minute passed in sweet blissful silence. Every second the man kept his mouth shut was a second she didn't have to spend listening to his incessant flirting, which was why when she saw him open his mouth, she almost groaned in frustration.

"It isn't that bad, is it?"

"Oh sure, I've always wanted to have my leg hewn off. It's such a burden, having to lug around all that extra weight."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt that way."

Maribelle shot him a nasty look. "I wasn't being serious, you buffon!"

"You weren't?" The man blinked, and his palm came up to rest on his forehead. "My apologies. I was... a little lost in thought."

"Hah. I doubt enough goes on in that skull of yours for you to get lost in."

"Did I say lost in thought? I meant distracted by your radiance, sunshine."

"Oh, you can keep your flattery to yourself." Maribelle glanced away and sighed. "But if you must know, if you fail to clean a wound properly, an infection could spread around the wound and render it unusable. Normally, a heal staff would take care of such troubles, but I broke my last one, so unless you've got any lying around, I need to see a cleric at the next town over. And that's not taking into account any internal ailments and illnesses."

"So, it is bad."

"It wouldn't be as bad if you'd stop gawking and finish wrapping that bandage. I want to get to that town as soon as possible, you hear?"

This time, it was the man who sighed. "As you wish, buttercup."

It's not my intention that these chapters are getting shorter, I just didn't feel like dragging these on any longer than necessary. Once a scene has played out, there's no use in adding any extra baggage. Hopefully, I'll be able to have more for the next chapter.

I said I'd write for this story in my free time. Funny how that works out, since I didn't have much free time last week. But I did manage to get something out in the end, so that's all that matters.

Until next time, I wish you all well, and stay safe!