The health of the man that just saved his life be damned, it was Sanzo’s lack of lung capacity currently that kept him from releasing a volley of insults. He had some real cutting ones on the mind right now. Later.

For now he expressed his displeasure with both Drake’s excessive knowledge of his clothing and his “humor” by forcing his right hand to point the tiny revolver in the healer’s direction. The pain of doing so was enough to make him even paler than before and his hand was shaking so bad firing the thing would be nearly impossible. But he had a point to make. A point along the lines of go fuck yourself.

As angry as he was, he didn’t miss how much of an efficient field medic this man was. He added that to the checklist of things to increase his suspicion of the other. It was a harmless- quite helpful actually- trait but Sanzo was hardly in a charitable mood.

“Feh.” He should be grateful but he wasn’t.