Bonesplinter Ravine Concrete Halls

What in heaven's name happened to your neck? Eira asked sharply, her capable paws brushing aside Hasdrubal's fur to reveal the bruised and battered flesh beneath, hues of green and purple mottling his skin. Her cold brown eyes met his opal gaze with a piercing scrutiny. She shook her head in disapproval. I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re getting yourself into when you’re not lying here bothering me, but I suggest you limit it, at least until you're healed.

There was no warmth in her tone—only the straightforward practicality of a doctor intent on her patient’s survival. She had no use for kindness where this one was concerned. They’d never make it back to Godsmouth if he kept injuring himself like this. Perhaps that was his intention. Her jaw clenched, mouth tightening into a thin, stern line.

And for your information, the girl you were supposed to protect? You failed. She’s been injured. Quite seriously, I might add.