“This is stupid, I can't believe we are on this stupid mission with you,” Cale said directing his words at Emmett. He had all but ignored Cyrus, refusing to talk to the healer. “I don't need you here; I can do this myself and be twice as fast. Why'd you come anyway?”
“Oh, I'm sorry, are you talking to me now?” Emmett asked sarcastically. “We've been walking beside you for the last hour and all you've done is complain and ignore Cyrus. I'd be careful if I were you, he may not heal you if you get hurt.”
Cale stopped and gave Emmett a death glare. “I don't need you here; you might as well just leave and join the other group.”
“Weren't you listening back there? Only three could go, meaning three had to go. So, bite your tongue, shut up, and move. We don't have all day; the sun is already starting to go down and we need to find the lighted path and then find somewhere safe to make camp tonight. Otherwise, we will be standing out like a sore thumb, and we don't want bandits or something worse coming along and finding us.” Emmett said, shoving Cale aside as he walked past them.
“By the way, meet Cyrus. I hope he does have to heal you; he has a horrible bedside manner.” Emmett said sarcastically.
“What?” Cyrus asked, pulling his attention towards the bickering pair.
“You heard me,” Emmett said, turning around and walking backward. “Come on, you have to know. I got stabbed in the stomach. As a healer, you’re supposed to heal and help take the pain away. But no, with you, you crammed your fingers into my wound; you might as well have jammed a blazing hot poker in there. It was torture.”
“You're healed, aren't you?”
“Not the point, man, not the point. Next time, have a gentler touch.”
“Next time, if you want gentle, get a woman to heal you.”
“Fine, I just hope that we won't need your services.” Cyrus grinned in response at the friendly banter between the two.