He frowned when she began to cry and lick at her paws, and the big-hearted, dumb old brute grit at his teeth and wished Iskata was near, but that was useless. She wouldn't be of any help. DaVinci either, most likely. Damnit, didn't he know any good maternal figures anymore? Fuck, Jefferson wasn't a father. He didn't know how to raise kids. He was four years old and probably the biggest idiot when it came to children that there could be.
He laid his good hand on her head a brief moment to shush her and stop the licking. "Don't do that," he said quietly, striding across the room and hastily going through cupboards in search for bandages or something to wrap around her feet. Naturally, that went without avail, and the grumbling Patriarch moved his way back to her. "Stay still a minute, I'm going to wrap your feet," he advised as he pulled the fabric of the makeshift sling from her shoulders--all the sling had been was knotted fabric strong enough to support his arm--and began to rip it apart. He clamped his jaws onto it and ripped at it with his hand, careful to make even strips or something that would work as bandages. That done, he took to wrapping her feet and tucking the strips together, managing to get some sort of secure covering over her bleeding little feet. He breathed out in some sort of relief.
Considering he'd been bent down on a knee in front of her for some time, she must've seen his face by now--scarred to no end, the monster that he was. His useless arm was hanging limply at his side, as if all energy and life had been drained from the muscles, and scars and gashes abounded there, too. Her feet were wrapped, though, but now she was without anything to keep the rest of her shivering body warm. He sighed. It figured. Still on his knee and knowing how goddamn frightening he looked to a child, his green eye gently looked up at her and he laid his good hand on her head. "I'm Jefferson, Addi," he said quietly, unsmiling. "You have to trust me, or you won't get better." That said, he very cautiously and somewhat unwillingly scooped her up again, balancing her small body on his thick and furry arm and holding it close before taking the place in the chair before the fire. He'd be damned if someone walked in at that particular moment.
"Where did you come from? Where are your parents?" His eye turned down to her. Don't be afraid of me, it pleaded. He was so tired of being frightening.