Guy accepted the gauze and lifted the wad of cloth from Luke's wound before it had a chance to stick. He winced, examining the wound with a calculating eye and tried not to think of whose side it was in. What they needed was water, but the river wasn't reliable and unless the teen across from him had packed a kettle, a fire or even a pot with some purifying tablets then they were fresh out of luck.

Pressing the cloth to Luke's side again Guy wiped away the blood as best he could with another scrap of his shirt; some of it was dried and sticky, but the fresher blood was cleaned away somewhat. He was content to allow Luke and his friend to talk, not that he trusted his words at the moment anyways.