That made her more eager to sit. "Then we should go."
"You can barely get up." I tensed my tail, ready to pin her in place if necessary. A night of sleep could heal, but not completely.
"I can do whatever I need to do." She shoved my hands away, the movement making her wince. "Don’t coddle me."
Fury ignited in my chest. Not at her. At the situation. At my own helplessness. At the fact that she was hurt and in pain and still trying to push herself beyond reasonable limits.
"You could have died," I said, the words coming out harsher than intended. "You fought a firebird, killed it, and nearly bled out in the process. You don't get to pretend you're fine."
"I'm not pretending anything. I know I'm hurt. But we don't have time to waste sitting around while I recover."
"We have time for you to not kill yourself through stubbornness."
She glared at me. The anger in her eyes was real, but underneath it, I could see pain. Fear. The adrenaline crash hitting her hard, leaving her raw and defensive.
She was looking for a fight. Needed the outlet, the distraction from her own vulnerability.
I wouldn't give it to her.
"Your wounds are treated," I said, forcing my voice back to calm. "You need water and rest. We'll stay here until dawn, then reassess."
"I don't need you making decisions for me."
"Someone has to, since you're clearly incapable of making rational ones."
Her jaw clenched. "Fuck you."
"Eloquent."
"I mean it. You don't get to swoop in and play savior, then act like I owe you obedience." She sat fully up and glared at me, daring me to naysay her.
I was smart enough to say nothing about it.
"I'm not asking for obedience. I'm asking you to have some sense of self-preservation."
"My self-preservation is fine. I killed a firebird, didn't I?"
Pride surged through me again despite the argument. "You did."
The acknowledgment seemed to throw her. She blinked, some of the anger draining from her expression. "I did," she repeated, quieter. "Holy shit, I actually killed one of those things."
"You were impressive."
Her gaze snapped back to mine. Searching. Looking for mockery or condescension. Finding neither.
Something shifted in her expression. The anger didn't disappear, but it softened around the edges. She looked down at her bandaged ribs, her burned arm, the evidence of the fight written on her skin.
"It hurt," she said finally. "When the talons caught me. I didn't feel it at first, but after, when the adrenaline wore off, it hurt like hell."
"Pain means you're alive."
"Thanks, Dr. Sunshine." But there was no real bite in the word.
Silence settled between us. Not comfortable, but less hostile than moments before. I could hear her breathing, still too fast, still shallow with pain. Could smell the herbs from the healing salve mixing with her natural scent.
My tail was still wrapped around her calf.
I should move it. Should give her space, respect her boundaries, stop touching her without permission.
