YOUR HAND IN MY HAND — INJURED

[ninazu]

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© lexasperated

I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH
CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH, IT'S KILLING YOU

The erudite watched with lopsided brows as the gryphon hurled towards the ground, feathers bleeding into fur as he turned from a beast of air into a grounded wolf. The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement, though she didn't manage to laugh -- when she noticed his wounds, she thought that fortuitous. Her usefulness to everyone in the Pitt assured she didn't have any enemies here, but laughing in an injured member's face wouldn't go over well.

Shrugging off her satchel, the wispy serval settled down next to the weeping neck wound; it looked worse than Cosette's gashes had, but at least this one didn't smell infected. "I'm here, don't worry," Ninazu mumbled, her words barely coherent as she busied herself with grabbing a steel knife in her jaws. "Don't move," she warned curtly, her voice low and commanding. Without further bedside manner, she flicked her wrist and torched her knife's blade, letting flames engulf the steel for fifteen seconds.

When she felt the blade hot enough, she leaned down and attempted to cauterize his neck wounds. She'd deal with his shoulder wounds using more traditional herbalism, but the blood loss here made her fret too much to waste time trying a less severe method.

WRITTEN BY AXIOM

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© LEXASPERATED