I was taken aback. Why was he more worried about me than I was about myself? I guess his concern was genuine, but it made me feel a little awkward—almost like I was the fragile one here.
"Zeke, I'm fine, really," I assured him, trying to sound confident. Although the pain was noticeable, the wound wasn't deep enough to be serious.
"Pierre, the recovery potion," Ezekiel said urgently, his eyes fixed on the small bottle in Pierre's hands. Without waiting for permission, he snatched the potion and quickly emptied its contents directly onto my wound.
I watched as the liquid seeped into the cut, and almost immediately, I felt a soothing coolness spread through the injury. Ezekiel's expression was focused and serious, clearly worried but trying to stay calm.
"Thanks, Zeke," I said softly, feeling a bit grateful despite the unexpected concern. The pain was already beginning to fade, and I could tell the healing process was kicking in.
