Confusion and flabbergast did not leave Nilana while she attended to his wounds. Her eyebrows were raised, twitching at the top of her head.
No matter how hard she tapped the wet cotton dripping with the herbal antiseptic lotion (that she made), Ian. Did. Not. Flinch. Even. Once.
His rigid facial expression, laid-back and relaxed body language played a stark difference to what his bruises and wounds looked like. Nilana felt as if she was the only one being ever so careful with treating his wounds, while he stayed nonchalant without showing any physical distress.
No Ouch? No Wincing? Is he even a human? She thought to herself, narrowing her eyes as she soaked a fresh ball of cotton into the bowl of herbal antiseptic lotion mixed with neem oil.
