Heron Lake Plateau If you can use a doorknob

He was, well.. Obviously not a great patient.  Really, it's not that bad, he said, even while wincing as she nosed a sore spot on his ribs, which was definitely going to cause him problems if he lay down on his side.  He grit his teeth and attempted to pretend it did nothing, but though his tough act might be totally believable from a few yards away, she was so close that every twitch and wiggle was blatantly obvious.  On the one hand, he would ordinarily do whatever she wanted, but on the other, really, it was totally supposed to be him fussing over her, not this.

He was slowly inching away when she hit the sore spots, rotating away like a clock hand.  Then, as if it would totally convince her to stop poking at him and just eat the dang fawn, I've done a lot worse before.  I think the fawn's still warm, even, you should enjoy it before it gets cold. AKA stop poking meeeeee.  Really.  Quixote apparently was not particularly fond of the more clinical side of Raven's touch, even if he normally would melt into a pile of goo otherwise.  I can just go get cleaned up and it'll be like nothing happened.  Even he knew that wasn't true, but he tried.