Ryah must not have been the first hunter he'd ever come across, if he could already tell that Ryah had a kit on him. The brunet had learned early on that sometimes you had to make do with what you had on hand, and being caught and trapped without even the most minimal of first aid gear was dangerous. He approached the vampire, still a touch wary but quickly pulled out the little first aid kit from his leather jacket's inner pocket. It didn't have much, but it had enough for him to extract a bullet or two. Ryah gestured for the vampire to take his jacket off and quickly cut off the sleeve of his shirt, where his blood was blooming. He pulled out a small pair of pliers.<br/><br/>"Don't move," he muttered under his breath before he quickly dug into the wound. He tried to ignore just how sharp those fangs and talons looked; they could probably cut through his skin like butter. He hit something solid and grabbed onto it, pulling it out. Vampires, he knew, had better immune systems, so all he needed to do was bandage and wrap the wound to stop the bleeding, rather than fuss with alcoholic wipes and sterilization.<br/><br/>The whole process didn't take more than a few minutes, which was good because as he finished with the wrap, the distant sound of sirens filtered through the air, ringing louder and louder and it approached. "Shit," Ryah hissed quietly to himself, head jerking up. The sudden movement, coupled with blood loss, had his vision going black around the edges for a moment. He'd been hoping for enough time to take care of his own wounds instead of bleeding out in the alley. He urgently asked the other if he knew a way out that wouldn't put them in the path of the rapidly-approaching cops and ambulances.