I'm sorry for your pain, master," his Elf pouted. "I don't have potions to help, or bandages to wrap with."
"Use this," he growled, tearing off a sleeve from his expensive robe to reveal the shimmering, gold-like, plate armor underneath. She took the silk cloth and began to wrap up his mutilated appendage, humming a soothing tune as she did so.
"Sir, what are we going to do?" one of his men asked, the human boy's voice as shaky as the hand he kept on his belt of throwing knives.
Slowly letting out his lungs to calm and steel himself in front of his men, Pretayus did his best to quell his own rattled state and asked, "Did anyone see the demon that did this?"
His men looked to one another, one-by-one they shook their heads. His Elf, however, stopped singing to answer, "I did, master."
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