[ The Judge rests a hand gentle on Armin's uninjured shoulder briefly, and holds a hand up to gesture 'wait'. Nearby, a chest sits. The Judge opens it, rummaging momentarily. He procures a med-kit, needle and thread, and bandages. They're not uncommon, both in the strange area that the Judge has come to know as the 'blood web', and in trials themselves. Near as he can tell, the med-kits give hope to survivors, an emotion strong enough that the Entity can feed on it.
By now, the Judge has a small stockpile. Many of the other survivors that have been here for so long do too.
He returns to Armin, kneeling next to him. The light of the bonfire will have to be good enough. It is perpetually twilight here, and the flashlights they have access to, far too short-lived to be of any real use. He opens the kit and sets out each necessary item. The hatchet must be removed first, and the Judge points to it in warning, a soft noise to make sure he has the other's attention. He braces Armin's shoulder, pauses, and then without ceremony, pulls the hatchet out, straight as he can. He's quick to press a folded rag to it to staunch the rush of warm blood.]
no subject
By now, the Judge has a small stockpile. Many of the other survivors that have been here for so long do too.
He returns to Armin, kneeling next to him. The light of the bonfire will have to be good enough. It is perpetually twilight here, and the flashlights they have access to, far too short-lived to be of any real use. He opens the kit and sets out each necessary item. The hatchet must be removed first, and the Judge points to it in warning, a soft noise to make sure he has the other's attention. He braces Armin's shoulder, pauses, and then without ceremony, pulls the hatchet out, straight as he can. He's quick to press a folded rag to it to staunch the rush of warm blood.]