table © Alaine
ooc: thankee :3 let me know if there are any injuries i've left out! too much pp?
wc: 500+
The Apothecary could immediately see that she would have no issues with persuading this poor wreck to drink anything she offered. Some creatures fought the use of her potions and broths, fearing them to be the poisons they often-times were, but Alaine was always careful and measured with her use of the potent liquids. Besides, she could see that this fellow was in dire danger of slipping under due to pain alone, and so long as she could keep him teetering on the edge of that brink as opposed to plunging over it, then half of her work would be done. Shock was a great killer, and pain was usually pushing that shock forward. Cautiously, she held the flask to his seeking lips, allowing half the mixture to be swallow before pulling it firmly away. The broth would have had an unpleasantly bitter taste, but she doubted that the wounded 'yote would have noticed.
"Be still, let me see... Argh, maith Dia! So much to be done... Hold still!" Aware that any contact she made with his torn flesh would bring sharp points of agony, the woman was strict in her commands for him to remain as motionless as possible. If he thrashed or jerked, his injuries could be worsened. She cursed that he had had to drag himself - All the blood-seeping wounds were matted with bacterial filled dirt. There was only one way to be entirely sure that the bacteria had been removed, and that would be with a severe alcohol-rinsing, the pain associated with which would be surely unbearable. However, first things first - Alaine had to try and wash away some of that blood, so she could see what she was dealing with! Leveling an authoritative and professional emerald gaze upon the wounded man, her gentle fingertips fluttered over his chest and latched softly in the remaining shreds of material. And then, with an almighty pull, she ripped the blood-soaked material from him, cringing at the expected cries of pain. Immediately, the wounds that had been clogged by material began to bleed afresh, and the thick crimson fluid stained more of her ivory forearms.
Not bothering to ask for time was of the essence, the woman rose and stood behind his prone form. Her hands hooked beneath his arms and, knowing that it would surely cause great pain to his broken ribs and arm (although hopefully the broth might dull it somewhat), she pulled him into the shallows of the running brook, grunting with the effort. Although the man was a 'yote, her own size was much slimmer than his, and the effort of the lift and drag made her muscles scream. However, she didn't stop until he was resting against a large, smooth rock, propped up into a half-sitting position with the slow-moving water running over his legs. The clear liquid pooled with splashes of red blood and brown mud. Kneeling in the water beside him, Alaine busied herself by rinsing the open wounds to clear them of obvious dirt. Only then did she realize the magnitude of his injuries - The Apothecary listed them in her head, in order of what she would need to address first: Severe gashes on back and over ribs, less severe cuts on arms and lower legs (possibly caused by dragging himself), a broken fibula and possibly tibia in his left arm, the likelihood of one or more broken ribs, and what could turn out to be a pretty severe case of head trauma.
"Lean forward, if you can - I need to clean your back." As before, her voice was cool and calming, even though her mind was whirring at a hundred miles an hour. She needed him to remain relatively calm, for even in this state, there was a chance he could overwhelm her if he tried. As she washed gingerly at the stranger's raw and bleeding back, the woman began to speak again, this time trying to distract him from the pain. "Tell me, what is your name? Do you recall who you are? Nod, if you cannot speak." Alaine prayed that he wasn't suffering from amnesia.
Speak think walk
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