Chapter 32 - It look Like You Got Hit By A Wild Boar

The door creaks open wider as a small figure stumbles forward, barely catching herself before faceplanting onto the wooden floor. A young girl with long braids and rosy cheeks blinks up at Yasu from where she’s now crouched near the threshold—her big brown eyes wide with curiosity, and maybe just a hint of mischief.  
"Oopsie!" she chirps, not even bothering to sound embarrassed about nearly eating dirt in front of their guest. Instead, her gaze locks onto him like he's some fascinating new creature discovered in the woods while adjusting her lopsided straw hat absently...  
Hilda sighs heavily but there's unmistakable fondness underneath it all when addressing this sudden interruption: "May. I told you not to eavesdrop on conversations."
The girl—May—shrugs innocently. "But I'm bored, Mama!" she protests, the words coming out in a dramatic whine. "I couldn't help overhearing!"  
Hilda groans, shaking her head. "You're always so nosy," she grumbles more to herself than anyone else, but there's no real anger in her voice. She glances back at Yasu, as if expecting him to be annoyed by this sudden interruption from the girl. However, Yasu finds himself holding back a chuckle instead...
May seems to notice this as well because in an instant her focus shifts from her mother to Yasu, eyes glinting with barely contained curiosity now. She straightens up from where she's crouched, taking a few steps closer towards him without any sense of stranger danger.  
"Who're you?" she asks bluntly, hands planted on her hips in a gesture that's almost comically adult for someone her age. "You're all bandaged and look like you got hit by a wild boar or something!"
Yasu blinks back at the girl, his expression caught somewhere between bewilderment and amusement. In the back of his mind, he's thinking: "Did this little girl just compare me to a wild boar?!" 
Finally, he finds his words, though he's still not sure what to say, so what ends up coming out is a gruff: "Uh... no, I didn't get hit by a boar, kid. And my name is Yasu."
May looks unconvinced, her head tilting to the side skeptically. "You sure?" she presses, taking another step closer and scrutinizing his bandaged form like she's a village healer in training. "'Cause you look pretty beat up to me, Yaysu." 
Yasu's eyebrows twitched in confusion, finding the mispronunciation of his name a bit insulting.
"Y-Yaysu?!"
Hilda is suppressing giggles now behind Yasu, clearly finding this entire interaction far more entertaining than it probably should be.
Yaysu, I mean Yasu huffs, trying and failing to look offended by the tiny girl's assessment of his injuries. "I'm not that bad off," he mutters defensively—though the way he winces when shifting positions on the bed betrays him entirely.  
May squints at him for a long moment before suddenly gasping dramatically: "Ooooh! You're one of those mysterious wanderers who show up all injured but never tell anyone what happened!" Her eyes practically sparkle with excitement now as if she’s just solved some grand puzzle about him.
Yasu can't help the snort of incredulous surprise that escapes him at the girl's assumption. Mysterious wanderer? As if! Still, something is endearing about this little girl's unabashed curiosity... and her imagination.  
He glances back at Hilda who's now barely hiding her smile behind her hand, clearly amused by their exchange. "Is she always like this?" he asks, a reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Hilda lets out a full, unrestrained laugh at that—her shoulders shaking with mirth. "Ohhh, just like this," she confirms between chuckles, reaching over to ruffle May’s already messy braids in an affectionate way that makes the girl squawk indignantly.  
May swats at her mother’s hand but doesn’t stop grinning up at Yasu now though clearly pleased she's gotten some kind of reaction out of him. "I’m not little!" she insists stubbornly despite being approximately half Yasu's size and still shoeless...
Hilda snorts at May's protest, her hand coming to rest on her daughter's head in a fond yet firm manner. "Oh please, you're tiny and you know it," Hilda teases before adding more seriously: "Now go on outside and check on the chickens while I finish up here."  
May pouts but doesn't argue, clearly knowing better than to argue with her mom's orders. "...Fiiiine," she huffs before reluctantly turning and scampering out the door again.
Hilda turns her attention back to Yasu as the door closes behind them, her expression more solemn now.
"Now, I suppose that gives us some privacy," she murmurs, stepping over to the bed. "That girl is always full of questions about everything—drives me crazy sometimes," she continues with a small sigh, shaking her head. "But she's a good kid."  
Hilda reaches out, picking up the discarded black shirt that was discarded near Yasu earlier. "Here," she says, tossing it to him, "put this back on before the kid comes back and sees you half-naked."
Yasu catches the shirt awkwardly, the pain in his hip flaring again as he moves too quickly. "Thanks," he mutters gruffly, quickly pulling it back on despite the fact that it makes moving his injured body even more difficult than it was before.  
Hilda's gaze softens as she watches him, the earlier humor giving way to sympathy. "You really ought to rest, you know," she says quietly. "You're in no condition to be up and about with those wounds."
Yasu grits his teeth, pushing himself upright with sheer stubbornness—his hands gripping the edge of the bed as he sways dangerously for a second before finding some semblance of balance.  
Hilda makes an exasperated noise in her throat but doesn’t try to stop him though she does hover close enough to catch him if needed. "You’re going to reopen those wounds," she warns sharply—but there's no real bite behind it; more like resigned frustration at someone being this hardheaded over their own health...  
He flashes her a lopsided grin despite how pale he looks now from pain alone: "Nah, I'll be fine."
Hilda pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply through her teeth like she's physically restraining herself from throttling him. "Fine," she mutters after a beat—though it sounds more like ‘you impossible fool’ than actual agreement.  
She steps back with hands on her hips, watching him warily as if waiting for his legs to give out any second now which they very well might. "But if you pass out and crack your skull open," she adds dryly while pointing an accusing finger at him: "I'm not cleaning it up."
"I won't pass out," Yasu mutters stubbornly even though even this short conversation has him feeling a little dizzy.  
Hilda rolls her eyes, clearly not convinced in the slightest—especially given his current state of barely managing to stand upright. "Uh-huh," she replies dryly. "And I'm sure your stubbornness will magically mend those injuries too."
Yasu lets out a huff that sounds suspiciously close to a low growl, though the effect is ruined slightly by how breathless he is from just standing. "I've survived worse than this before," he mutters through clenched teeth—more to convince himself than reassure Hilda at this point.  
She scoffs at that, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that clearly says she's this close to just forcing him back onto the bed and tying him down if that's what it takes.
Speaking of that...
Hilda’s patience snaps like a dry twig. In one swift motion, she steps forward and shoves Yasu back down onto the bed with surprising strength—her hand planted firmly between his shoulder blades to keep him from even thinking about moving again.  
"Oh no you don’t," she snaps, her voice sharp as flint now despite the earlier humor in her tone. "You are staying right here until those wounds heal or so help me I will tie you to this damn cot myself!"  
There's fire in her eyes—a motherly or perhaps just very done rage that brooks no argument...
Yasu lets out a strangled noise of protest as Hilda basically manhandles him back into bed which is just as painful as it sounds with his current injuries. He tries to struggle for a second before the combination of pain and exhaustion leaves him boneless against the mattress, glaring up at her with a mixture of defiance and helplessness.  
"I don’t need to rest," he mutters through gritted teeth a flat-out lie and they both damn well know it. "I can still move around just fine."
Hilda’s glare is lethal—her brows furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line, the kind of look that makes even grown men hesitate before testing her patience further.  
Yasu swallows hard under the weight of it—something primal in him instinctively recognizing this as a losing battle. His defiance crumbles almost instantly despite himself because gods above does this woman have an aura when she wants to intimidate someone...