Facepaint.

"Kill the boar. Cut his throat. Spill his blood."
The chant rang through the forest, the usual chant of the hunters, yet this time, the words droned out monotonously, fierce and yet dull.
Ralph looked up from the pool, eyes gazing at the dark outlines of the hunters returning from their battle. Two large figures were being carried to the camp. One was distinctly the boar, a ferocious beast now dulled by the essence of death. The other, however, looked human.
"What happened? Out of my way, let me see."
Ralph leaped from the pool, trudging to the hunters to find their carrying the second, dull object. Dull for all except a head of fiery hair.
"Jack, he..."
"The boar."
"We tried to stop it."
"Took him by surprise."
"He killed it in return!"
Sam and Eric explained, and Ralph nodded.
"Bring him to the pool. The shallow part. Water'll clean him up."
The twins nodded, and the rest of the hunters dispersed to take care of the boar. Jack, Sam, and Eric helped the fallen boy to the glowing green waters, and Ralph waved a dismissive hand.
"He'll be fine. Ill take care of it."
They nodded, leaving the two, and Ralph splashed a little water onto Jack's face.
An immediate groan.
"So you're still awake."
"I'm fine."
"You don't so--"
"I'm fine!"
Jack protested, yet he was obviously barely conscious. A large gash followed his forearm and it didn't look like he could move much.
"Just let me clean you up."
Grumbling, Jack nodded.
It seemed like forever, Ralph, washing the skin-deep dirt from the redhead, revealing deep brown freckles before the chef deemed him clean enough. He got to the wound, hesitant.
"...Its fine. Water'll clean it out."
"Sucks to the water, piggy says--"
"Sucks to piggy! Piggy this, piggy that, do you ever stop talking about him?!"
Ralph was taken aback.
"...Piggy says you haven't suck out the blood. It ain't good, its dirty. I need you to be there for the hunters."
Jack flushed, groaning before turning away.
"...It'll help, you know."
"Just get it over with."
Ralph nodded. It wasn't his forte to be so servile, but Jack was extremely wounded, and... And... There was something in the moment that he couldn't explain. He couldn't ignore.
He pressed his lips against the wound, sucking in and spitting out the salty, bitter blood. Jack winced, but he continued for awhile before deeming it clean enough.
"Now's your face."
Jack complained. "But I've Facepaint. I've got to keep it on."
"Shut up. You're scratched up. Gotta clean it. Don't be stupid."
Heaving a sigh, jack nodded, unable to do much against it anyways.
Ralph smudged a couple waterlogged fingers across the other boy's cheek, cleaning off clay, blood, and scratches before smiling, faintly.
"What?"
"Nothing... I just never see you like this no more. Without your paint, that is. It looks... Nice. Natural."
Jack flushed.
"...Shut up."