A short chappie, but here you are, my lovely readers.

Point of View: Third Person

"Your torso took some heavy damage. I'll need to see it to be sure. I hate to say it, but, shirt off. Cloak too." Atalanta sighs heavily, a hand on her hip.

Moonlace freezes. "I can do it myself."

"Nonsense." Atalanta waves her hand dismissively.

"I have been doing it for myself since forever." Moonlace reminds her.

"Yes, that may be true. But, you are a part of the Hunt now, Moonlace and I am the one who takes care of the injuries. I am the medic of the Hunt. You are in my tent. Now, take it off." Atalanta says. "If you're going to follow our rules, then listen now."

Moonlace searches her face. "Fine. Turn around." He says and grunts as he sits up.

Atalanta rolls her eyes and turns around. He unclasps the simple black leaf clasp over the tie of his cloak. He undoes the string and sets his cloak off to the side. His countenance finally revealed. He then removes his shirt and drops it on the floor. He lays back down and looks pained. He takes his cloak and lays it overtop of his head after saying Atalanta can turn around.

"Afraid I'll see?" She asks, completely amused.

"Yes and no." He tells her as he feels the needle go into his side and the thread pull through.

"Care to explain?" She wonders.

"Yes because I don't know if you'll recognize me and I even forget what I look like. No because I consider you my friend. Very dangerous position." Moonlace elucidates.

Atalanta catches the meaning his last sentence holds because of the broken words that replay in her mind from the other night. They all heard them. "I won't judge you for it then." She mumbles.

Moonlace is surprised. "Thank you." He whispers.

Atalanta smiles some. "So, they attacked just after we left, huh?"

"Yes." Moonlace breathes.

"Tired?" She inquires.

"Very." Moonlace admits.

"You should sleep." Atalanta urges.

"Not right now. I'm too jarred." Moonlace tells her.

"That sucks." Atalanta laughs.

Moonlace chuckles. "Yes it does." 'It's really because you'll all try to see who I am and I am a little wired.'

"I'll need you to sit up so I can bind your chest and midsection. It'll keep the stitches from tearing easier and keep the ones that don't need to be stitched from getting infected. Right after I clean them anyway." Atalanta says.

"Alright." Moonlace sighs.

He feels the antiseptic and smells it strongly. She pats his shoulder and he sits up, holding the fabric to his face.

"Your hair is long." She murmurs.

"I haven't cut it in a long time. I don't pay attention to it." Moonlace says.

"How long is a long time?" Atalanta asks as she wraps, cuts, and dresses. She pulls tightly and then starts the next section. Making sure it's tight enough to help heal but loose enough not to hurt him badly. And so he can actually breathe.

"Ten years give or take." Moonlace laughs.

"Wow." Atalanta giggles. "It's pretty long."

"Yes, it is." Moonlace nods. His jet black hair runs clear down to just past his shoulder blades.

Atalanta can see the eight pack that makes up his abdomen and the muscles in his back.

And the scars.

"Are they from Tartarus?" She whispers.

Moonlace breathes deeply. "Yes, the vast majority of them are. Very little scars on my body don't come from being tortured down in Hell."

Atalanta nods, keeping herself from freezing. "Sorry."

"No, you were curious. I don't mind and talking about it doesn't bother me. I'm out now anyway and have been for what, 300 years? Don't worry about it, Atalanta. It's fine." Moonlace speaks kindly.

Atalanta nods. "Yeah. At least you're free."

"Indeed." Moonlace agrees.

Atalanta pats his shoulder. "Now your legs. You can lay back down."

It takes about an hour for Atalanta to carefully pay attention to everything on his legs before she digs in. Especially the wound in his right thigh. She tends to that one first, making sure nothing is damaged. She sees that his immortality helps him heal slowly but has already started. He heals faster than Artemis and she's a goddess. She stitches the entry and the exit, careful not to hurt him and to be quick about it. After another half hour, she's finished.

"I'll leave you alone." Atalanta tells him. "Since you joined the Hunt, there are clothes for you. You can find them."

"Thank you, Atalanta." Moonlace breathes.

Atalanta nods. "You're welcome."

Once she leaves, he gets up, letting the cloak fall to the floor. He winces involuntarily at the ache in his heart. She came close to knowing and that's what his heart and soul want but he refused. He holds his chest and then pushes up, standing. He walks over to one of the cabinets and finds black clothes, for a boy.

Moonlace smiles. 'Artemis must have let me keep my color. Thank you, milady.'