Ah, there it is. Lizard. Always the same to dryskins, yeah? You're just an animal dressed up in people clothing. Those filthy boots are only worth a tenth of what a proper Nord is. Don't even deserve to live in our cities.

She chooses to ignore this much less charming pet name. Busies herself shifting the layer of leather armor loose to get at the clothing she wears underneath, using her dagger to trim away an inch or so of hem on her shirt. A bit of a chilly look for Skyrim weather, but in a tropical setting like this, it's an easy enough sacrifice to make if it means she's got herself a makeshift bandage. She wrings out the saltwater as best she can.

"I don't doubt that you have," she answers, holding the newly-cut strip of linen out for him to tend to himself. "Doesn't change the fact it's too soon to be slacking my guard, does it? You're injured, I'm fine. It's only logical sense that I should play lookout while you see to that little whoopsie-daisy."

She's not so much looking at him now - true to her word, her eyes are on the trees, waiting for some sign of pursuing apes to rustle through the undergrowth. Even so, a smile tugs the edges of her mouth. "But maybe I will get it into my head to baby you just a little. Wasn't it fun being carried? Bet I could do it on dry land, too."