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The infirmary had been relatively quiet for Finn's shift that day. He had finished his rounds, checking in on the very few patients (three to be exact) that were currently being kept, though even those were boring, being kept for observation overnight and likely discharged by morning. A few walk in's were quickly taken care of, most of these quite minor but in need of some medical attention.

It was during one of the many lulls during Finn's shift that he sat down to read through a fairly reputable medical journal entitled New England Journal of Medicine. It was proving to be a fairly interesting read, with several fascinating articles of various topics, though the case challenge was something that really caught his eye.

Flipping through the pages, he couldn't help but feel like maybe things were finally looking up for him after all. Not a single idiot dealt with all day.

When somebody came into the infirmary looking that distressed, it usually indicated that a terrible accident had just occurred. Finn looked up from his medical journal, frowning as he abruptly stood up.

"Where is the patient?" He asked, stepping away from his chair and for all intents and purposes looking as though he were about to go straight for the entrance way and look outside for what he was sure would be a severely injured hunter (more likely a trainee), being helped to the infirmary.

Of course, he was halted in his tracks when he noticed that the woman was just helping herself to medical supplies.

"Woaaah there, darling. Kindly put back everything you're holding." He leveled a cold glare on her, finally noticing the small wound on her cheek. Was this some kind of joke?

The look he gave back to this woman he had never met before in his life was equally as unimpressed, if not incredibly cold and unimpressed. While he couldn't exactly refuse her any kind of treatment if she asked for it (she was bleeding, after all, if only barely), he also wasn't about to just roll over and let this obviously crazy b***h tell him what to do.

"I think." He repeated himself. "That you should put those things back where you found them." He did, however, reach out to pluck out a single item from the assortment that she held.

A box of band-aids. Because that was seriously all she needed.

This woman. This woman. It was becoming quite clear that she had no intention of listening to a single thing that Finn had to say, and so, he bit back the exasperated sound that was threatening to tear out of his throat, and clenched his back teeth.

She shoved a mirror at him, and he took it.

And then he set it down on the counter top.

"Go find an empty infirmary bed. I'll be over shortly."

If her nurse comment did anything to grate on his nerves, it did not show in his flat, expressionless stare as he gathered up what he thought would be needed, setting it all on a metal tray propped up on wheels that he was soon rolling over towards the bed that she had set herself in. There was a system that he was meant to adhere to, getting her information, triage, putting her in the correct order of severity of injury to be looked at, but the fact was that the infirmary was dead at the moment, quiet, and he could gather information from her as he worked.

Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he went to the head of the bed and bent to examine her apparently grievous wound, touching it lightly around the edges, inspecting. No stitches would be needed, and with her weapons help it would likely be healed within a day, maybe two.

"Okay, Princess, how about you just let me know how this happened." He said, turning away to get swab of antiseptic prepared.