[She follows, lingering by the couch where he lets the blanket fall, but the second Chris says he needs help, she's on the move again. Footsteps quiet, but noisy enough to be heard. Tea set down in front of him so Chris can see her hands before she reaches out to help. There's no hairpin to make noise right now, and that means she's more careful and obvious about everything she does. Everything done with a care and gentleness that matches her face without reaching her eyes.

She's livid. She's ready for targets. She can almost taste the fear in the air, imagine the light going out someone's eyes and the foam at the corner of their mouth. Body going cold, their blood on the floor and her hands and her face. The dark smile she'll have almost crosses her face, caught only by Chris' voice.

One thing at a time.]

You may need stitches. I've a kit with me for it. [Fully armed and armoured, it shouldn't surprise either of them. Blades all over, slingshot on her hip, pouches on her belt. Leather across her shoulders, forearms, and chest. But she's a leader, and these are her men, and so she's prepared for battle and the aftermath.]

I have a bottle of antiseptic, too, should you need it. [She looks up to Hawke, mind using the less familiar name to help her keep her distance until they're both certain Chris is well, then draws away a few steps to give him space while she finds what she mentioned.]

My hands are here if you need them.