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"Look," I say.
"How about I show you first, okay?" She nods and hands me a bottle of antiseptic.
I pour some onto a cloth and begin to clean the wound, gritting my teeth against the pain.
Diana watches, her eyes widening as she sees the blood and the damage.
But she doesn't look away.
Instead, she reaches out and takes the cloth.
"Okay," she says, through gritted teeth.
"Tell me what I need to do and remember, if I hurt you, you can't scream unless if it's really, really bad okay? Or I'll freak out and won't be able to finish."
In this moment, I realize something.
Diana is far braver than I thought and despite her fears, she knows how to take charge.
I'm impressed.
I teach her how to clean and dress the wound, guiding her gently through each step.
She's a quick learner and soon, she has the hang of it.
I watch her with pride as she works, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"You're doing great, dove," I murmur.
"I knew I could count on you."
She smiles, a small, tired thing, as she finishes up.
"I need to keep you alive, Anthony. I don't even know where we are."
"Oh," I say, teasing her.
"So that's all I am to you? A tool to meet your ends?"
She playfully slaps my arm.
"Don't be ridiculous. You're much more than that. You're also my driver and current wallet on legs."
I grin, happy to see her smile.
"Well, I'm glad we agree on that."
We sit there for a while, since my wound is still throbbing from all the treatment it just received, but at last, the pain dulls down.
I look at Diana, and she her stifle a yawn.
“Come on,” I say, jumping to my feet and extending her a hand.
“We really ought to keep going before it gets dark. There could be animals here.”
“Where will she go?” she asks, dejectedly.
“Something will come up,” I say, overconfidently to put her mind at ease.
