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[b]With grudging acceptance, I stop pulling my hand away and allow you to tend to it. For a few moments, I keep still and watch you, before pulling away again with an impatient grunt.

"Well if you hadn't run away, this wouldn't have happened!" I spit, once more standing as to prevent you from continuing your tending to my 'wounds'. My injured hand is clasped in the other, held on the far side of my body as I glare over my shoulder at you.[/b]
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