Sitting down on the floor, Ollie sat with his legs splayed out and his hands grasping his thigh. His jeans were torn, showing off pale flesh stained red. “No, no,” He shook his head, looking down at the wound. “It’s not a bite. I just cut it open hopping out of that damn window. He breathed through gritted teeth, almost hissing every time he drew a breath. It was definitely painful, but much, much better than being bitten. “I think there might still be some glass in there. Hurts like hell.”
The girl entered the room. Her face pale as ghost, surprised to see anyone at all. She was more surprised to see that he could speak. She’d come because she heard noise, which she now realized was glass.
Her face was stoic and hardened. She wouldn’t let any emotion go through as she decided what to do. Sparks reluctantly sighed, she couldn’t leave the man for dead.
Despite herself, she decided to help him, all the while reminding herself her knife was close by.
“Let me look at the leg.”