[ Dion is accustomed to being watched. He's spent his life under the gaze of those who looked through him, who saw what he was before all else, and what he could be used for. There is also the commonality of being watched with a certain distant detachment, and he expects that the latter is true of Shadow.
He presses on as though that doesn't weigh on him, shrugging off the satchel he'd brought with him. The image he tucks carefully in a pocket of the bag, so as not to damage it while he works.
His satchel is mostly filled with greens, one of which he sets before the chocobo before he moves aside to examine its wing. The kweh it utters comes with brittle enthusiasm, but it still eats, which is a good sign. Dion looks the wing over with as little contact as possible, gingerly examining the wound so he can get a sense of how to patch it up.
He's seen enough war chocobos wounded in battle and their subsequent recovery to have a sense of severity, at the very least. ]
...Provided we keep this clean, I believe it should mend.
[ His voice remains soft as he tugs a roll of gauze from the satchel, sifting around to find other supplies. ]
no subject
He presses on as though that doesn't weigh on him, shrugging off the satchel he'd brought with him. The image he tucks carefully in a pocket of the bag, so as not to damage it while he works.
His satchel is mostly filled with greens, one of which he sets before the chocobo before he moves aside to examine its wing. The kweh it utters comes with brittle enthusiasm, but it still eats, which is a good sign. Dion looks the wing over with as little contact as possible, gingerly examining the wound so he can get a sense of how to patch it up.
He's seen enough war chocobos wounded in battle and their subsequent recovery to have a sense of severity, at the very least. ]
...Provided we keep this clean, I believe it should mend.
[ His voice remains soft as he tugs a roll of gauze from the satchel, sifting around to find other supplies. ]