Resting against the trunk on the ground was much better than leaning against it. The bark still hurt against his back however. He moved his hand slightly from his arm that he was putting pressure on to stop some bleeding from the nasty cut wound.
“A lot of places on my back is a mess. 3 places on my right leg. This spot and 4 other spots on my other arm. And about 2 places on my front.” He was a mess, but Emil probably already knew that. Though if he wasn’t a wreck and as emotional as a brick at the moment he might have rolled his eyes at Emil’s forgetfulness. Not now though. He couldn’t honestly care if Emil just now remembered he had an apple gel. He took it and muttered a thanks and ate it. He preferred the dish variant but he didn’t have room to complain.
“Right.”
Emil did not wait. He would not do so. His fingers gently moved, going forward to unfasten belts and tug away the scarf, resting it to the side. All this could wait. He just needed to focus on the bandages, the [ things ] which would stop bleeding and provide stability when moving. Once the shirt had come off, his next was to take off whatever was left of the bleeding mess which was tattered and broken cloth clinging to his arm.
“I’ll d-deal with your legs afterwards.”
It was a for-warning, just so that he knew he would. It wasn’t just because he couldn’t or was too embarrassed to, but rather a conscious choice. His hands then went, digging through his pack for salve, sliding stinging poltice which would cause some pain without second thought.
Ratatosk would be able to handle a bit of extra pain, if what he was going through now didn’t already tell one that.