Dorian just hummed slightly in response, though he didn't move to open his eyes. He took some deep, painful breaths, swallowing a couple times to sooth his dry throat. Hopefully this girl wouldn't just bolt so he had time to thank her… and her friend. He shifted his body slightly only to be met with a wave of pain, causing him to hiss.
The hiss made Ally look back to the Prince, and she shook her head. "You shouldn't try t' move. D'you-" She paused, knowing she'd absolutely regret the side-effects of the offer, but forcing herself to speak. "D'you want me to help you move into a more comfortable…whatever?"
Dorian shook his head at her, declining the offer. He was fine where he was, now anyway. She'd helped him enough at this point and he could move into a comfortable position by himself, even if it pained him to do so. He was guessing it would be like this for a while, anyway.
The first aid kit was thrown from the doorway at Allisandra, who reach up and caught it without issue. She crouched in front of the Prince, opening it up and nodding to Johnson as he set a damp rag down on the small wooden coffee table. "I need you t' point out or let me know where the worst injuries are, if you can."
Dorian sighed softly and slowly, lifted his not so injured arm to point at his other shoulder. It looked like an arrow wound only the tip of the arrow was still in his skin. Then he pointed to a deep slash wound across his chest and a deep stab wound in his side and thigh.
Allisandra just nodded, moving from her spot on the floor to the couch next to him, and few too many inches away as she grabbed the rag. "I'm dealing with the arrow first. Seems just a bit more pressing, movement-wise and all." She muttered, as Johnson once again disappeared.
Dorian hummed his agreement, opening an eye for a moment before he closed it again. If he could have both arms functioning again that would be amazing. He released a deep breath and taking a couple more to distract himself.
Ally didn't give any sort of warning before removing the arrow, knowing that anything else would just make it harder for him. She quickly wiped at the blood best she could, attempting to clean up the surrounding area, before pressing a wad of gauze to the wound.
Dorian hissed in pain though was glad for the arrow head to be out of his arm. He bit down harshly on his lower lip, opening his eyes finally and keeping them open.
"Probably should've given you something to bite on." Ally muttered, half an apology as she grabbed a bandage to keep the gauze in place.
Dorian huffed a laugh, "P-Probably…" He mumbled, looking down at his shoulder then to her, "What's.. your name?"
Ally blinked, pausing as she moved onto his chest. "Most people call me Ghost." She said after a moment, before taking another moment to think. "Name's Allisandra, though."
"Th-Thank-you… Allisandra.." Dorian shifted a little to help her get to the next wound. He sucked in a breath as he did so, but didn't cry out or hiss in pain this time.
"Don't thank me yet. You might be cursing that name in a moment." Ally said, shaking her head. She pulled the rag away, studying the gash. "D'you think you could get your shirt off? It's done for, at this point, and just in the way."
Dorian hesitated before he nodded. He had scars, yes and he shouldn't care if she saw. She felt like the type who'd have her own so it wouldn't matter. He leaned forwards slightly and carefully, took his shirt off.
Ally's eyes flickered across his chest, half looking at other injuries, and half taking in the scars. Setting the rag down and shrugging out of her coat to keep it clean, she returned to cleaning the gash without a word, though her own scars crisscrossing her neck seemed to burn once more with the phantom sting of the barbed wire. "This one might take stitches. Think you can handle that?"
"Had 'em before… I can deal with 'em again." Dorian replied, releasing a long breath. He'd had stitches multiple times. Had stitched himself and other people up. He was used to them by now so he didn't practically care.
"This might help." Johnson said gruffly as he entered the room once more, a bottle of scotch in hand. Ally snorted, but kept quiet, well aware that in his situation, she'd be jumping at the alcohol. She finished cleaning up as best she could, rifling through the first aid kit for what she needed.
Dorian smirked a little, gladly taking the alcohol from the other man, "Thanks…" He raised the bottle in a sort of salute before he took a swig, enjoying the burn and the fact that his throat was no longer dryer then the desert.
Ally waited until he'd gotten a bit of the alcohol into his system before getting started, brows furrowed as she carefully stitched the gash closed. She was good at it, obviously having had some prior practice.
Johnson sat down on what was essentially a dining room chair, studying Dorian. He didn't seem to recognize him, if his curious and wary gaze was any indication. "I heard her give ya her name, but I didn' hear ya offer one back."
Dorian looked over and raised a brow before taking another sip of scotch, "Dorian. Dorian Utarian." He said, looking down towards the ground. He didn't bother adding 'Crown Prince' in front of it. He had never been one for the title compared to the rest of his family.
It was obvious Allisandra had known, as she didn't pause her stitching. Johnson, however, blinked, before slapping his knee. "Damn. And what the hell's a boy o' your status doin' bleedin' out in our wharves and bein' rescued by an assassin?"
Dorian's brows rose at the mention of assassin but he didn't comment on it. Whether that was because he was too shocked or too tired to care or he was going to ask her about it later. He shrugged as best he could, "Your guess is as good as mine…" Well, he knew why he was bleeding but everything else… no clue.
"Temporary amnesia, likely due to head trauma, or your mind's attempt at blocking out general trauma." Allisandra said, finishing up with the stitches and standing to move to his other side, to deal with the next gash.
Dorian nodded a little. It was the most likely answer and he hoped it was just temporary. If he didn't find out why he was so far from home then he might just die of curiosity. He was more worried about his family, currently. Where were they? Were they safe?
"You happen t' get the latest newspaper?" Ally spoke suddenly, a few minutes later, and looked up at Johnson as she sewed the next gash shut.
"I think I did." Johnson said, frowning as he stood. "There's that look." "What look?" "The idea one." He said, shaking his head as he started for the door. "I'll go look for it. Mack might know where it is."
Dorian looked between the two, raised a brow but not saying anything. He took another swig of the scotch, enjoying the burn, "Why do you need the paper?"
"Might have some news on…your situation." Ally said, keeping her eyes on his injuries as she dealt with them. "People love anything to do with your family."
Dorian sighed and nodded, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes, "Yes… yes they do…" He mumbled. Honestly it was exhausting having to keep up appearances and being royal but he wasn't going to complain. He had no right.
"Okay, I'm all done here, I think." Ally said, packing things away and grabbing the now blood soaked rag as she stood. "You shouldn't bleed out any time soon." She grew quiet for a moment, before looking at him once more. "You're probably exhausted. Get some sleep while I figure things out."