"Oh, sure, I get all the ladies that way." Saturday winks. "Some 'a the dudes, too. Big strong protector gettin' bloody for their sake, an' all."

She shifts, and winces. One of the boars tagged her a while back, hard across the calf. She'd thought it was just a bruise - there was no blood - but it's been bugging her.

"This is just a scratch."

It's a moment's work to pull up her pantleg. It hurts - actually hurts, not just itching; cloth moving over it feels like pressing a bruise. She sucks in a breath and probes, suddenly focused. You can tell by how she's not complaining about the feeling anymore.

"Fuck." She pulls her leg fully into her lap. There's a spot on the back of her calf, a little streak of purple pus about the size of a coin. But it looks like it's spreading. "Well, that's fun."

She honestly doesn't know what else to say.