G A R E T H
The fire crackled pleasantly as the mare spoke, explaining to him how she came by her injuries. His audits flick back to listen to her as she talks about being one of the lucky ones, realizing now that there had been attempts to heal her, she just hadn’t known. He nodded, more to himself than to her, confirming his earlier suspicions. Though he hadn’t outright said it, he’d had an inkling that she must have been treated at some point early on to the attack. While her infection had gotten severe, it was most centrally located at her ankle, where the most damage had been done. As he had been cleaning her other wounds, he had been able to see that these were far less troubling than he had anticipated. Although inflamed, swollen from the arduous travel, they were already beginning to heal on their own. He would have to do little work to maintain them, which meant that he could focus his efforts on the bite wound.
He turned his body to watch her as she moved her limb about, demonstrating how her hind legs worked and he studied them, for what short time he was able. “Thank you,” he said, “For showing me.” He was grateful for the knowledge. The healer could see how she would have been uncomfortable if her limbs had been wrapped in the same way as any other equine. For as nimble as some could be, their kind had what he could call ‘reliable’ joints. You know how to treat one, you could treat them all, no matter the age or size, they all moved similarly- reliably. Pangaea was an entirely different beast, functioning more akin to the running lizards of Solterra, though he’d only heard tell of them, not seen any with his own eyes. If she hadn’t had the foresight to have shown him this structure of her limbs, he may well have gotten tunnel vision and wrapped her in the same way.
He returned his attention to the herbs he was collecting, still searching for a strip of hide she might be able to put between her teeth. It was in vain, though, as he didn’t want to put things off any longer, and neither did she. He would have to make do, and hopefully convince her it was better to scream than it would be to rip into her wing muscles. Strange reptilian legs he could handle, but he did not trust himself to be able to repair her flight appendage, especially not with the small stores of rudimentary supplies he had here.
The stallion nodded as he moved back to the fireside with the herbs as well as the mortar and pestle. He settled back down next to her leg, glad to see she had moved to provide easier access to it without his prompting.
“The good news,” he sighed, arranging his collection in front of him, including removing some kind of small sewing kit from his side satchel. He wasn’t sure what he would find as he worked, and he wanted to be prepared. “Is that apart from your ankle, your other wounds are relatively minor. No infection to deal with. Those I should be able to bandage without much more trouble.”
He lifted the bundle of herbs that he had fetched so she might see them before depositing the leaves into the mortar and pestle, beginning to grind them. “These,” he explained as he continued to work the leaves into a powder. “I am hoping to use to numb the muscle. I don’t know how effective the paste will be, since these herbs are not fresh and therefore not as potent.” He moved to take some of the water from the cauldron. Although he had been dunking the linens into it, the water was clean and hot, and he needed the liquid to finish what he was doing. It had been a long time since he had been called to work in the field, on short supply and limited resources. He would need to take advantage of the blizzard and gather as much snow as he could. “I don’t have enough here to justify a concentrated batch just now. If we are going to be here for a while, I want to be sure I can continue to clean and bandage this wound as necessary.”
Gareth then looked to Pangaea, his eyes warm, soulful, though he could not hide the hint of pleading. He knew what would soon be coming. He set the paste to one side and then pulled the hot rag from the cauldron. “I won’t lie to you,” he said, his tone low. “This will be agonizing. The wound is deep, through muscles and around tendons. It doesn’t look like anything was severed, or you wouldn’t have been able to move it at all. But with the infection,” He looked to the limb and then back to her. “I need to pull all of it out, to relieve the pressure and to prevent any further damage.” He moved around the surface of the wound gently, removing the debris, the crust of infection, clearing an area for him to apply the salve, hoping that it would be enough.
“The fact that it hasn’t started to rot honestly amazes me,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. The stallion returned his gaze to hers, his whiskey amber pools brimming with emotion.
“You are an incredibly strong woman, Pangaea.” He let the statement hang in the air between them. He needed her to believe it, with every fibre of her being. “I need you to be strong. If you must scream, scream, but for god's sake do not stifle yourself with other limbs. You’ll only end up hurting yourself more.”
He turned his body to watch her as she moved her limb about, demonstrating how her hind legs worked and he studied them, for what short time he was able. “Thank you,” he said, “For showing me.” He was grateful for the knowledge. The healer could see how she would have been uncomfortable if her limbs had been wrapped in the same way as any other equine. For as nimble as some could be, their kind had what he could call ‘reliable’ joints. You know how to treat one, you could treat them all, no matter the age or size, they all moved similarly- reliably. Pangaea was an entirely different beast, functioning more akin to the running lizards of Solterra, though he’d only heard tell of them, not seen any with his own eyes. If she hadn’t had the foresight to have shown him this structure of her limbs, he may well have gotten tunnel vision and wrapped her in the same way.
He returned his attention to the herbs he was collecting, still searching for a strip of hide she might be able to put between her teeth. It was in vain, though, as he didn’t want to put things off any longer, and neither did she. He would have to make do, and hopefully convince her it was better to scream than it would be to rip into her wing muscles. Strange reptilian legs he could handle, but he did not trust himself to be able to repair her flight appendage, especially not with the small stores of rudimentary supplies he had here.
The stallion nodded as he moved back to the fireside with the herbs as well as the mortar and pestle. He settled back down next to her leg, glad to see she had moved to provide easier access to it without his prompting.
“The good news,” he sighed, arranging his collection in front of him, including removing some kind of small sewing kit from his side satchel. He wasn’t sure what he would find as he worked, and he wanted to be prepared. “Is that apart from your ankle, your other wounds are relatively minor. No infection to deal with. Those I should be able to bandage without much more trouble.”
He lifted the bundle of herbs that he had fetched so she might see them before depositing the leaves into the mortar and pestle, beginning to grind them. “These,” he explained as he continued to work the leaves into a powder. “I am hoping to use to numb the muscle. I don’t know how effective the paste will be, since these herbs are not fresh and therefore not as potent.” He moved to take some of the water from the cauldron. Although he had been dunking the linens into it, the water was clean and hot, and he needed the liquid to finish what he was doing. It had been a long time since he had been called to work in the field, on short supply and limited resources. He would need to take advantage of the blizzard and gather as much snow as he could. “I don’t have enough here to justify a concentrated batch just now. If we are going to be here for a while, I want to be sure I can continue to clean and bandage this wound as necessary.”
Gareth then looked to Pangaea, his eyes warm, soulful, though he could not hide the hint of pleading. He knew what would soon be coming. He set the paste to one side and then pulled the hot rag from the cauldron. “I won’t lie to you,” he said, his tone low. “This will be agonizing. The wound is deep, through muscles and around tendons. It doesn’t look like anything was severed, or you wouldn’t have been able to move it at all. But with the infection,” He looked to the limb and then back to her. “I need to pull all of it out, to relieve the pressure and to prevent any further damage.” He moved around the surface of the wound gently, removing the debris, the crust of infection, clearing an area for him to apply the salve, hoping that it would be enough.
“The fact that it hasn’t started to rot honestly amazes me,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. The stallion returned his gaze to hers, his whiskey amber pools brimming with emotion.
“You are an incredibly strong woman, Pangaea.” He let the statement hang in the air between them. He needed her to believe it, with every fibre of her being. “I need you to be strong. If you must scream, scream, but for god's sake do not stifle yourself with other limbs. You’ll only end up hurting yourself more.”
"Speech" | | @Pangaea |
