[ The leg is tender enough that even the peeling away of fabric hurts, and Astarion finds himself caught between his desire to seem unflappable and his desire to throw a fit about anything unpleasant. He settles for scrunching up his face and grinding his teeth, only opening them once his leg is exposed to the air, which isn't much more comfortable.
He looks at Iorveth first, who looks like he's about to shatter his molars if he sets his jaw any harder; not a good sign. His eyes follow Iorveth's, and— ]
Oh, gods.
[ It's not his first injury of this sort, but it's the first that he's ever really gotten a good look at. He'd spent most of his time recuperating in the kennels where he couldn't look if he wanted to, and the rest of the time, he avoided getting undressed at all costs. This, though... ]
It's hideous.
[ A bigger problem than the pain by far. He looks up with a start, wide eyes beseeching Reginald for good news. ]
no subject
He looks at Iorveth first, who looks like he's about to shatter his molars if he sets his jaw any harder; not a good sign. His eyes follow Iorveth's, and— ]
Oh, gods.
[ It's not his first injury of this sort, but it's the first that he's ever really gotten a good look at. He'd spent most of his time recuperating in the kennels where he couldn't look if he wanted to, and the rest of the time, he avoided getting undressed at all costs. This, though... ]
It's hideous.
[ A bigger problem than the pain by far. He looks up with a start, wide eyes beseeching Reginald for good news. ]
Say that it won't be ugly forever.