“Tall, wide, hairy, white, and a group of five and let’s not forget the ring prints one of ‘em left to top it all off. Anyway forget about it for now, healing’s the best thing to do, yeah?” Zell was relieved the bastards had left so much proof behind and the manic grin on his lips seemed to insinuate that they already had them. Those guys probably didn’t know the meaning of “your ass is grass,” but they would. They’d left a trail of steaming shit in the wake of what they’d done; he almost thought the bastards were leaving their calling card. Wasn’t that just a kick in the crotch?

Now there was the other problem, Zell knew squall was uncomfortable with him, well the touching even though he relaxed a little bit. He’d applied the ointment and now patching Squall up would require a broader range of touching. As he started the patching and the eventual intricate wrapping of the other’s upper body in bandages he tried to think of a way to ease Squall, and change the mood a bit. He wasn’t above doing or saying anything embarrassing, but he didn’t want to get to active. Singing, singing always calmed him down and it was something he could do pretty well so he sand in an upbeat tune, “If you said goodbye to me tonight - There would still be music left to write - What else could I do - I'm so inspired by you - That hasn't happened for the longest time...” Pausing he looked up at squall as he continued bandaging, “sounds bad without the melody huh? If you don’t like it I’ll shut up…but I’m trying to ease the mood…and I like Billy Joel too…oh, by the way. Name’s Zell Dincht…”