“I don’t know if I can even stop this bleeding,” I admitted, panic gripping me hard. “I believe the poison at the wound is preventing the blood from clotting.” He shook his head to the side once. “Thank you for being here.” “I had to be,” I snapped, keeping pressure on the wound. “You dragged me here, remember?” His mouth quirked on one side, even while sweat rolled down across his forehead and into his hairline. “Not here. In this tent.” His eyes slipped closed. “For being in this world. In my life.” He chuckled, more blood seeping out of the bottom of the fabric.
