The Heartwood i'm not a complete wretch, i fetch

Ah. Bridget could tell that the wound pained him more than he wanted to admit, and between that and his guarded pose it wasn’t hard to see he thought she was a threat. She’d encountered the odd stranger, here and there, that didn’t speak. Whether it was a choice or not was irrelevant - she was going to get what she was going to get.

It’s alright. I only want to help, if you’ll let me. It didn’t look good and he would at least need something to take care of the infection she saw setting in. Bridget lowered her posture and allowed herself to relax, approaching slowly and carefully. She didn’t meet his eye but was ready, if he tried to lash out.

At a certain point she’d be too close to really avoid any attack he dealt, but she had to trust that if she was going to help. The only thing she could really do to convince him was offer as little threat as possible.