|
guess i'm doing fine,
|
[html]
Lysander could sense the resistance, the hesitance, of the coyote. Was he afraid? Good, he should be Lysander decided. What kind of canine trusted some random stranger that came stumbling right out of Halifax? The question posed tickled his funny bone and the husky laughed heartily. “Of course I have the supplies! What kind of medic would I be if I wasn’t prepared? Can ya imagine me goin' around, treating people with garbage I found on the street. Ah!” He let out another deep laugh, patting the male on the shoulder as if to congratulate him on making such a fine joke. And then he agreed to the rebreaking and resetting of the bone, and Lysander, or Samer, nodded sagely offering the creature a warm smile. This was just great.
“Good, good. We’ll have ya fixed up in no time at all!” He mind was only a few places ahead of him on the mental game board he had laid out for this encounter, and so at times he had to improvise, especially if Giggle gave him an answer he didn’t expect. Ly hadn’t dream of anyone agreeing to let him break their arm, free of charge. Remembering the bottle in his hands he held it up to the male, his eyes concerned as he peered at the coyote. “I think ya should take some of this as we head to my clinic. It’ll help a lot with the pain, and I wouldn’t want to hurt ya anymore than I absolutely have to. No sir. Not in our code of ethics. So if ya will, I’ll lead the way.” Still holding it out to the male, he turned his head back towards the heart of the city, confident he could find some place soon enough suitable for his clinic.
|
[/html]
|
