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There was enough warmth between the fire and their bodies to begin heating the room. Enkiel disliked the draft of this place, and sorely longed for warm weather. He had suffered through one winter last year and was not looking forward to the days to come. Even now, his lean body felt the effects of the chilly weather all too well. No, he was not made for this landscape and often wondered why he continued to live here despite all these cons.
For this, he reflected, listening to the girl cry. Someone needed to do this, and who but him knew such skill? Enkiel remained focused on his task, noting as she collapsed into unconsciousness and pleased for it. The second wound was stitched during this time, and once this was complete, he sat back. Red eyes narrowed as he focused on the other wounds, rising suddenly. There were only a few things within the room, but those were the basic supplies he needed. A jar on a Luperci-constructed shelf was grabbed, barely taking the time to read the Arabic label.
Inside was a mixture of animal fat and herbs. This poultice was applied gingerly to these open wounds, as well as the stitched. He did not use much, unwilling to let the wounds grow too wet. “Helotes,” his voice called. “There are some bandages at the foot of this bed. Give them to me.”
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