06-11-2018, 10:46 AM
[font=trebuchet ms]The feuding between Bastille and Margaery (and by extension, Suiteheart) had gone on for long enough. Rin had already started working on helping Margaery, but Bastille and Suite were going to be tougher to deal with- the former for being a stressed-out leader, and the latter for being naturally defensive of her lover. Still, she had to do something soon, before the conflict resulted in violence.
Yet, Rin never would’ve thought it would end with Suite screaming for a healer.
At the very least, she was thankful that she had her bag of supplies ready as she bolted towards the sound of Suite’s voice. She couldn’t smell any blood, strangely enough, but there was still the possibility that someone was suffering head trauma, or was choking (or had suffered an injury that she had no idea how to deal with, but she hoped it wouldn’t be that last one). The most she could tell from here was that the victim’s body was probably mostly intact, given that Suite thought they could be healed, so she probably didn’t have to deal with any decapitations or incinerations. She had to be prepared for the worst, though.
Once she got there, her senses were assaulted with the stench of what she could only assume was Tanglewood, and the sight of Margaery cradling a motionless Bastille, with matted neck fur suggesting that he had been strangled. In spite of herself, she unsheathed her claws and dug them into the dirt- he intended to negotiate peace with these people, who had been willing to strangle a child?
He didn’t reek of death yet, though- there was still time. She wasn’t about to let another leader slip through the cracks. ”Put him down,” she ordered, marching over to Bastille and Margaery. ”Set him on his right side. Hold his mouth shut and start breathing air into his nose in short bursts.” Swallowing, she continued, ”I’ll take care of the chest compressions.”
Yet, Rin never would’ve thought it would end with Suite screaming for a healer.
At the very least, she was thankful that she had her bag of supplies ready as she bolted towards the sound of Suite’s voice. She couldn’t smell any blood, strangely enough, but there was still the possibility that someone was suffering head trauma, or was choking (or had suffered an injury that she had no idea how to deal with, but she hoped it wouldn’t be that last one). The most she could tell from here was that the victim’s body was probably mostly intact, given that Suite thought they could be healed, so she probably didn’t have to deal with any decapitations or incinerations. She had to be prepared for the worst, though.
Once she got there, her senses were assaulted with the stench of what she could only assume was Tanglewood, and the sight of Margaery cradling a motionless Bastille, with matted neck fur suggesting that he had been strangled. In spite of herself, she unsheathed her claws and dug them into the dirt- he intended to negotiate peace with these people, who had been willing to strangle a child?
He didn’t reek of death yet, though- there was still time. She wasn’t about to let another leader slip through the cracks. ”Put him down,” she ordered, marching over to Bastille and Margaery. ”Set him on his right side. Hold his mouth shut and start breathing air into his nose in short bursts.” Swallowing, she continued, ”I’ll take care of the chest compressions.”
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