"Yeah, it's in the middle of your fucking back," since there's no need to be so delicate about it now that he's realised. At least he isn't panicking now that knows it's there. Blood dots the ground, pulls along in tacky smears with the edge of his boot heel while he coughs, shifting weight. "Sit down. I'll get it."

Bedside manner needs a little work, sweetheart chides a little dad-voice in her ear.

"It's thin so it shouldn't bleed that much — not before we get you to a healer, anyway. You're gonna be sore tomorrow though."