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Lanzallamas
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Santiago blinked along at the creature, now a corpse with eyes as wide and glazed as dusty marbles. He briefly swept his long hand over the stranger’s eyes, and felt them close peacefully at his touch. Still on one knee, Santiago looked back at the girl, and all of a sudden a great wave of familiarity washed over him – then it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He could see her breathing, but hesitantly so.
With little medical or herbal training, Santiago was no usual practitioner of lifesaving remedies, but his confident intuition had served him well in the past, branding him a swift hero on whatever occasion. It was no use sitting around and hoping she’d get better; first, the wound would need to be cleaned. However, Santiago was not the type to abandon what things of use there were to hand – he hadn’t forgotten that there was another person here.
“Do you have a medical mind?” asked the Spaniard, hustling all available options rather than stubbornly ignoring them. |
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