A sharp acoustic splash echoed from the basin, accompanied by a soft, sharp intake of breath.
Hajin blinked through the bleary morning haze, his eyes focusing on the wooden headboard above him.
The sharp scent of medicinal liniment and steeped bitterleaf lingered thickly in the confined space of the bedroom.
Beside him, Juna froze with the dripping linen rag suspended a few inches above his bandaged right ribs.
Her white wolf ears twitched forward with intense focus, the sleek fur along their tips standing completely upright.
Her eyes met his gaze in sudden, stunned disbelief, wide and luminous beneath the soft morning rays.
The linen rag slipped from her trembling fingers, landing with a dull, wet thud against the floorboards.
"Hajin?" she whispered, her voice cracking beneath a sudden wave of raw, unvarnished emotion.
"Hey," he croaked in a voice so dry and rough that it sounded like two river stones grinding together, a faint smirk touching his lips.
