Honestly Verik didn't even know why he bothered to go hunting with his partner. He always carried a bow when they went, but the dragon was more than capable of bringing down a buck or two on his own in a matter of hours.
Which he did.
Every time.
"Gods, next time I'm just sending you off by yourself," Verik complained as they coasted back toward their campsite. Bane just huffed affectionately, banking into a shallow dive to bring them down at the check point.
"How do you feel about venison?" Verik asked absently as he swung down from the dragon's back -- but when he turned and noticed Dane huddled over his own hands, he frowned and strode forward. "What happened?" he asked as he knelt, peering at his palms.
He hissed when he saw the redness, realizing what must have happened quickly. He'd done that himself his first couple trips to the border. "Aw, Dane." He smiled at him crookedly, almost sheepishly, and stood, moving toward his pack. "I've got a salve, c'mere so I can treat that," he urged. "And there's a sparkstone in here. I didn't think you'd try to light the fire on your own, I would've told you."