Golden Glade If You Can Dodge A Wrench, You Can Dodge A Ball

Again she pushed him to the head of the conversation, but he didn't fight it. Heartha seemed really worried, and he gave her a soft smile to calm her nerves. If he couldn't see, that had to mean his actual eyeball had been damaged, and much as he wished to see it and wanted to know what he looked like now, the stoic warrior couldn't make himself even open the eye let alone look at it. 
                   "I guess, I haven't seen it myself but if I can't see I can't imagine I'd want anyone else to look at the mess it is."
She went on to say she was angry at herself, bowing her head and apologizing. 
Yes, she'd frozen, she'd been unable to fight, but in Charleys eye she'd done everything she could. After all, she'd dragged Ayla all the way into the tunnels alone. A short, silent moment past, but eventually the Pryor, caught in a moment of rare affection for someone other than his mate, swung his head her way. Careful to turn as to not touch his wounds, he presed the side of his face into her chest and rubbed it along her shoulder.
                                           "Heartha, not everyone has the skills of battle. You're no warrior, and I don't expect you to be. You're just as important to the Court, but in a much different way. You take care of us. Have you thought about becoming a medic, maybe? You wouldn't have to fight, your job in the battles would be to mend and heal."