“No.” Cole’s initial reaction to Kryschenn’s intentions was barely audible. It was something more of a low growl, a warning for her to back off.
Cole realized what could happen in the next few minutes between them. His eyes narrowed matching the Berseker’s. Both of them had reason to stand their ground on the matter. Kryschenn was under the impression it was a simple wound that needed better tending then the Mentalist had thus far provided. Meanwhile, Cole believed he could keep the others safe by keeping them in the dark about the mark over his hand and its implications for him. As much as didn’t he wanted to, he found himself conflicting the anger welling up inside of him.
“Look, Kryschenn!” he finally spoke. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, so just back off of it, okay? Please. I’m seriously not in the mood for getting into an argument! No one else has been making a big deal about this, so why are you?”
“No, wait!” he butted in before Kryschenn could respond. Another way around the matter before him sprang up in his mind at that moment, effectively dissipating his earlier attitude. “Wait…I’m sorry for snapping at you like that, Krys, really, I am,” Cole swiftly apologized, clearing his throat before continuing. “I know you are just trying to help, but just listen to me, okay, I think we should hold off on this ‘bandage’ thing for now. We’ll be ending up at each other’s throats in no time if we continue like this.”
“As grateful as I am that you’ve offered to help me out, I must respectfully decline your offer once again,” Cole politely stated, as he motioned with his hands for Kryschenn to put away her dagger. “I’m sure there is another way to deal with this matter, but for now this bandage stays,” he sternly insisted. “Check this out, you and your sleeveless blouse have been in the tunnels between here and Yarfell, the stream tunnel, a dingy prison, the Faire Square, Lord Droth’s, a waterfall and I’m not sure where else. The point is that it has had plenty of time to get as dirty, if not dirtier, than this strap over my hand, despite how ‘unsanitary’ it is being a simple leather belt-like strap!”
He then glanced at the herb Kryschenn pointed out to him earlier. “Besides,” he continued dismantling her argument, “how can you be totally sure that the plant you were looking at is indeed an ‘Adder’s Tongue,’ this isn’t exactly Earth, you know.” This possibility surprised Cole as he spoke. It was a valid point he did not give consideration to until the words passed through his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, there are some differences between the plants and animals of the two places. Even though it may look like a plant familiar to you, it could very well be poisonous for all we know.”
It was then that another possible remedy for an injury presented itself to the Mentalist. “Fairalin and Fay are capable of using magic to heal people’s wounds, they can probably do the same with a simple cut or bruise,” he added, addressing the lack of medical attention to which Cole had been regarding his ‘wound.’ Here, Cole only alluded to seeking their aid in his dilemma without making a commitment to doing so. Of course, that kind of magic had no bearing on the mark magically-placed on Cole’s right hand. Still, he hoped at least suggesting it would ease Kryschenn’s concerns, showing he could seek those skilled in healing magic to deal with his problem.
“See, I’ll make sure this gets taken care of somehow, before my arm rots and falls off. Like you said, I have plenty of time to deal with this,” the smiling Mentalist continued with his doublespeak, while imagining himself being utterly destroyed by his interpretation of the ‘man-in-white,’ whose face he never actually saw, in a series of scenarios ranging from the vicious to the comical. “Anyway, please tell me that you aren’t going to come back at me with something else.”
“I’m sorry that this almost got out of hand between us,” he apologized again. “I can only take so many questions I don’t want to answer, you know?”
