WHAT ELSE CAN WE DO / o, injured

[rochelle]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; width: 50%; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px;"]Screaming, desperate terrors cut through the silence of the shore like lightning. She told herself it was all a bad dream, that she could seize herself from sleep and break away from the nightmare, so she did. The frame of the black smoke shuddered, curling up in her hammock to only be shrouded in darkness. The screaming ... the yelling, it persisted. But she wasn't dreaming, surely, she could differentiate the atmosphere of slumber and reality. The ringing in her tired ears exposed the screechs of the avian, prompting her to finally raise herself up, head and ears reaching up to split the many sounds of the island. Rosemary's voice splintered through the breeze like a piece of glass.

She was running. How had she risen so quickly? Fischer was dazed, she could hardly break down her thoughts. There was something clenched between her teeth, a blanket. Rosemary needed a blanket ... had she grabbed the one off of her sofa? And it was wet, she knew, gliding down the bank of a river on her way to the scene, drenching the blanket. And she had her bag too, she must have grabbed it at the last minute. The pace of the night was quickening, and she needed to keep up. The Soothsayer, all subconscious, was darting full force towards the scent of Rosemary, towards the scent of blood. Towards the scent of ... of Goldenluxury. The arrival of these sense brought a sob through her body, involuntary as her whole body went cold. But she grasped herself on the last thread, pulling the brakes as she reared up to the Head Soothsayer, her mind as sharp as a needle. Goldie was hurt, Rosemary was there, and Fischer had gotten the blanket. At first she didn't say anything, just paused, sniffed, surveyed every movement of Goldie that she could catch, pinpointing the bleeding at her back. She needed to know the extent of the injuries, positive they were severe, but she stopped herself from asking Rosemary. Detailing whatever graphic display had been made of Goldie would just make the situation more upsetting than it needed to be. She ... for once was thankful to be blind, she didn't think she would be able to cope with seeing the state Goldie was in.

After a split moment of assessing everything, she spoke, "Goldie ... if you can hear me, breathe deeply, breathe slowly ... try your best ..." Fischer was crouched, head hovering just above the bengal's ears, and placing down the wet blanket simultaneously near the other Soothsayer. Her nose tilted up towards Rosemary, "I can go get some water or fire, or I can stay with you, you decide." Fischer told her, her tone was much more direct, a simple and flat but urgent flow of words. The Head Soothsayer would make a decision and she would follow through. From the clean, blank smell of metal, she figured it was medical tools, and she could get at where Rosemary was headed with the fire. Her own bag had been flung to the side, and for the meanwhile she ripped supplies from the satchel. Raspberry leaves, marigold, and bandages, like Rosemary. Bandages and raspberry leaves, to stave off the bleeding, which she attempted to press firmly but carefully to the other shallow parts of Goldie's wounds, the marigold popped into her mouth, grinding the herb into a poultice to be used once Rosemary had stitched her up. The adrenaline was pumping through her, and she tried her best to keep steady, unsure if it was the grief or the shock that was causing herself to shake. She kept her limbs tense, sightless eyes staring off in concentration.