He fixed his friend with a level, severe gaze, peering over his sunglasses.

"I'm not," he said honestly. "Statistically, the odds aren't good. But I'm not going down without a fight, and neither are you." He tore Jake's sleeve off entirely, tearing it in strips. He dabbed at the wound to remove some of the blood, first, and then slid a strip of the fabric up above the bite. "I'm gonna tie this as tight as I can to cut off as much circulation as I can. I don't have any way to make this not hurt like fuck, so you're gonna have to bear with me, all right?" The backpack on his shoulders came off and an inexplicable bandana came out. He squinted at it in vague confusion for a moment before he held it out. "...bite into this, and try not to scream."