The pain in Byron's back had transitioned to a dull ache, a sign that the salve was working. All in all he was lucky that the shop that sold it was still open when he was finally let down. He knew he'd made a sight, blood in his hair and soaking through the back of his shirt as he rushed to the market for it and something for Octavian. Which he'd failed to get. The shops had closed leaving him little time to treat his injuries before having to head back to the gap. Not that he'd shown up to the wall empty handed, but he wasn't even sure Octavian would want what he brought.<br/><br/>The weak hello caused him to lift the lantern. The light made Octavian look ghostly pale and gleamed off his horns. Byron couldn't help but wonder what they felt like. Would they be smooth or would they be rough? Where the points sharp or dull? They looked like they could gore someone but...and what about his hair? The long inky spill that bled into the night. Was it as soft as his skin? And what made Byron think that simply because the other man had let him touch his hand that he would let him do more? Especially with the blood on his hands. Byron hadn't even had time to wash that off. Or change clothes. No doubt he looked like a mess.<br/><br/>Wasting little time so his appearance didn't scare Octavian off he sat down the rifle and reached into his pocket. Which drew the first normal facial expression from Byron in a long time; a wince. His wounds pulled where the salve and blood mixture glued itself to his shirt. What he wouldn't give to just lay down and go to sleep. Or at least for his back to have been bandaged properly. Or maybe he should just move slower, but no if he didn't give Octavian what he promised the other man would leave. He'd leave and could even get killed if he decided to come back during the day. Byron couldn't let him die just because he hurt.<br/><br/>Pulling his hand out of his pocket he held it out to Octavian. In his palm was a pocket watch, a small copper thing with a long chain. The glass inside was smooth but it'd long ago stopped working. Byron had bought it years ago so he could make sure he got to his drills on time. It was useless and worthless now but maybe Octavian would like it.<br/><br/>"It's broken but...it still shines in the light," His voice was slower than normal as he tried to hide the pain, "I...if you don't like it I can bring something else tomorrow...or two things,"