The trek from Wolfville to the whispering shores of the beach was not as quick as what was ideal, but the four legged predator moved swiftly through the well known territory, heading north-east. Past time or no, his soft paws travelled from lush forest to finely corned sand and finally on to the rockier floor that indicated that the best part of the beach lay behind. A red, invisible cloud of injury invaded his nose in a wave of heavy fragrances. His snout tickled excitedly, but lavender eyes saw a scene different from the instinctively ideal setting. Eyebrows did not care to rise. Loners were frequently found by the borders. Some sought a place to call home. While many of them turned away and severed the loose bond of fealty to Dahlia, there seemed to be a lazy, continuous stream of fresh blood to the pack. That was life, always pulsing and changing, impossible to control.
There was blood, but the strong, vibrant colour often fooled spectators. Then again, Conor was not one to judge in such an arrogant, all-knowing way, and he quickly killed off the little amount of distance left between him and the two canines. While he felt the natural need to frown, his face could almost match the tranquillity of Cwmfen’s, but of course not quite. The stormish gray male’s sapphire hued eyes were blurry, and the amount of red beneath his broken limb spoke well enough without words. It was not before now that Conor’s face knew emotion – and he was puzzled. The blood on the male’s hands was the quiet proof he needed. It was impressive if the man had managed to set the broken bone straight on his own. It was plain to see that it had been an open fracture. The lavender eyed male shook the medical purse off swiftly as his own bones started to bend and pop to allow his body to take a less natural shape.
It was a pity that the man still held on to some consciousness. Pain was great, and though it could be soothed, there was not a lot of time left to be wasted. Comfort was important if it was possible, but Conor’s first priority was to maintain that life that was slowly pulsing out together with the thick blood. ”If necessary, Cwmfen, please try to keep him down.” The moment his shift into optime was more or less done, cream painted fingers pressed eagerly around the injured area where the bone had gone through. Within moments his hands were slick with blood. Unfortunately, due to Conor’s travelling time, the leg was quickly swelling and it was hard for him to determine whether or not the bone had been set back right. The thought of having to re-break it was not appealing, but his mind quickly moved on to limit the damage now when he finally was here. He gave Cwmfen a sharp nod to prepare her before he skilfully pulled the entire leg upwards, lifting it from the ground and placing it on his knee.
Blood was still pouring out, but the main blood stream would not travel so forcefully out of his injury if it had to travel up and against gravity. Holding the leg firmly in case of a kick from the loner, the young male let his other blood soaked hand reach down into his bag and fetch a most precious bottle of alcohol. Now frowning, he turned the cap open with his teeth and let the fiery liquid splash down into the wound without mercy. His muscles trembled with the effort of keeping absolute hold of the other man’s leg. He was uncertain how much good it did with the red stream so strong, but the only downfall about this move was the male’s pain. A splinter of wood was already nearby, but he did not take time to wonder if it was mere luck or the efficiency of his fellow Dahlian. Fingers seemed stiff with inexperience in this urgent situation, but the male did his best as the occupied hand attempted with a few flexible fingers to position the piece of wood as the other hand started dealing with the yellowy white cloth bandage retrieved from the bag of wonders.
Quickly, yet too slowly for his liking, the bandage was wrapped around the leg. He was not oblivious of the seaweed brought fresh from the wet shores, but he had no knowledge of its uses in this situation. Therefore he continued, wrapping the cloth tight around the wound oozing with red. There were many things he should have done better, but at the moment his mind believed this to be the fastest way to stop the bleeding.