I tugged on the hem of his shirt, and he rose onto his elbows, helping me remove...

I tugged on the hem of his shirt, and he rose onto his elbows, helping me remove his jacket, then the shirt beneath. A bruise marred his ribs, an angry splotch-
"It's fine," he said before I could speak. "A lucky shot."
"With what?"
Again, that half smile. "A spear?"
My heart stopped. "A …