Faolan isn't certain he's ever taken his shirt off in front of the other man like this, and truth be told, he's a little self-conscious about it. A hunter's life is far from kind, and Faolan's life as a hunter had had a rather violent jumpstart when he'd nearly been shredded by a vampire as a teenager. He's fit -- he has to be, if he wants to survive the encounters he knowingly puts himself into -- but he's certainly not muscular. And covered in various different sorts of scarring as he is...
He hunches over slightly, trying to direct the other man's attention away from whatever other bruising he might find (for there is some), and other grazing on his arms from catching himself as he was tossed about. "I only asked her to look at this," he says, and he turns in his chair so that he can position his arm for Lancelot to see the cut. It trails from his shoulder down the back of his bicep, and it looks like at one point it probably had been quite the wound. But all that's left now is the red line of a fresh scar across his skin. There are some scratches across his back that debatably could have done with her attention as well, but they're healing well enough on their own thank you very much.
no subject
He hunches over slightly, trying to direct the other man's attention away from whatever other bruising he might find (for there is some), and other grazing on his arms from catching himself as he was tossed about. "I only asked her to look at this," he says, and he turns in his chair so that he can position his arm for Lancelot to see the cut. It trails from his shoulder down the back of his bicep, and it looks like at one point it probably had been quite the wound. But all that's left now is the red line of a fresh scar across his skin. There are some scratches across his back that debatably could have done with her attention as well, but they're healing well enough on their own thank you very much.