Razorback Ridge dissonance.

Time was meaningless to him. He felt the pain and that was all; it occasionally throbbed, but as soon as the woman had departed Revui sank in to a state of patience he hadn't shown before. Whether it took hours or moments, she returned with an array of offerings for him; and he waited there like a god anticipating service. In that way she did not disappoint. She came to him with bitter green sprigs, and as he chewed at them he grimaced around the taste. They expelled a grassy fluid as he turned them to cud.

Meanwhile, the woman tended to his wounds - applying what she could, adhering everything with honey which made the wounds burn and the boy twist with discomfort, but it was soon complete. Her explanations didn't mean much to him except the warning, to which he slanted his ears and focused as much of his attention as was possible: and a grunt, signalling he understood.

—are you hungry? Thirsty? She asked of him. What was she hoping to do, feed him? Tend to him as if he were a babe in need of his mother? Revui scowled to himself (it wasn't a well hidden expression on his grim face) and shook his head, wanting to be rid of her suddenly. I will be alright. You may go.