Obediently, Locke reached up with his good arm to staunch the bleeding as well as he could while she prepared to stitch him back together. With the door shut to the storm, the sound of the howling wind quieted to a mutter.

"If this doesn't let up, we can probably make our way back to town through the mines," he suggested, mostly to distract himself from what she was about to do. Tempted as he was to watch, he was sort of grateful the wound wasn't somewhere he could easily satisfy his curiosity. Instead, he kept his head bowed and the bloodsoaked rag of his shirt held tightly in hand.