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Shay gave one last hiss at Viktor before noticing Zane's hand. "Oh, my gosh! Sorry, Zane! This wouldn't of happened if it weren't for him." She said it with such venom it sounded like a horrible insult. "I didn't mean to claw you."

Shay punched Viktor in the shoulder. "Next time it'll be the face," she warned, anotehr hiss underlying her words.

Shay ripped off a section from the bottom of her shirt without hesitation; it was plenty long enough. She wrapped the strip around Zane's hand, trying not to press on the cuts too hard.

"Which way?" she asked.

Her outpour of emotion - anger, mainly - had left her a bit 'out of it'.

"Don't argue, Zane. Your blood will probably start soaking your sleeve soon," Shay said, tying both ends together with a cloth. She sighed as she looked at her crude bandage - her hands were not made for healing.

"That includes muttering," Shay scolded, nudging his arm lightly.

She relinquished her grip, the crude bandaged secured. It would at least keep out the dirt and hopefully temper the risk of infection a little. "Finished," she said.

"We should wash it out with water every so often...we can't risk infection out here. It's not like we can go back for help." A crooked grin formed of Shay's face at that.

"You lead the way, Zane," Shay said. Her cheeks flushed a little; normally she would take the lead. Her recent outburst had left her at a blank of which direction was which.