Kuronue finally lost patience and squirmed free with a mutter, his left wing-tip dragging the ground as he staggered up to his feet. ".. .'m fine," he complained, swatting away hands that approached with first-aid tape and more bandaging. The stench of antiseptic made his nose wrinkle and ears flatten back in distress, distaste.

He didn't remember ever smelling anything that acrid or bad before. How it could be helpful, he didn't know, but he'd humored this long enough.

"What's it even mean?"