[The wound, thankfully, isn't that bad. It's pretty clean and looks at least somewhat healed. Gladio wipes the area gently with a dampened cloth before drying it and applying some salve before wrapping Ravus' ankle with some gauze.

It certainly isn't easy with Ravus constantly moving his damn foot, but he manages it nonetheless and finally focuses on responding to the insult he very much opened the door to.]

You definitely have and I'll prove it. [Moving quickly, Gladio rises into a crouch and stretches to grab is Slate off of the table. Returning to where he'd been kneeling, he pulls up their conversation - most of the messages involving some variant of the stupid eggplant emoji.

Oddly enough, when he sits again at Ravus' feet he props the injured foot on his thigh...] Here! [He thrusts the iMog at Ravus.] What th' hell do you call all these messages? Every single one of them is asking if I want to fuck.

[While Ravus looks over their texts, Gladio goes back to poking and prodding the ankle he just wrapped. He can feel how tightened up some of the muscles have gotten and knows that kind of tenseness can have an effect on surrounding muscles and body parts. Like the foot.

So he starts gently massaging the area immediately above the wound, planning to work his way down to the foot. Just to make sure the muscles stay loose.]

Well? Now who's a degenerate, you ass?