[It's like a replay from days ago: Daan nudging over a rolling stool, gloves on, ready to peel back bandages. The difference being, of course, that he lacks all of his frustration and sternness of then, forever unable to help himself but care and empathize. It's always a fatal flaw in him that he's never been able to really squash out.

Love and courage, is what Kaveh told him. Love and courage are things he is made of. Good man, people will say. Kind man. Yet none of those aspects have ever been born out of naivete, but out of the knowledge that the world doesn't pity its inhabitants enough. And so: a hand to be held out, when none were ever given to him.

Daan is careful, ever gentle but firm with his touch as he peels off bandages, giving a satisfied hum. The injury isn't as red or swollen, no sign of infection. The little needle marks of a bite are scabbed and healing.]

That's more like it. [Daan sounds satisfied.] At this point, you might not even need a bandage anymore. Letting the wound air out will help with proper scabbing and healing.

Just don't do anything foolish with that hand of yours, will you?