08-14-2018, 10:52 AM
Abathur's middle name was fast medical attention.
Not really, if you couldn't tell - he didn't really have a middle name. But it might as well be, since he specialised in emergency surgery and such. You had to, if you were a medic in these places. Nobody came to your office with a cold, they were either missing a leg or paralyzed from the waist down. Kind of ridiculous, how many serious, tragic accidents happened here, but it wasn't as ridiculous as a massive spider who was also coincidentally a surgeon.
Abathur was prepped as soon as he heard "FUCK" reverberating through the marsh despite its oppressive atmosphere, rushing towards the noise faster than he had ever moved in Tanglewood, though that momentum was noticeably stopped as soon as he saw the situation. Leroy, limping along with three legs, running away from an enraged alligator. Now he felt like the one that should curse - he was just a spider, he couldn't kill a goddamn alligator. The scales were too thick for his fangs, as far as he knew, even if those were long enough to cause massive brain damage to the average feline. This wasn't an average domestic cat, though, this was a goddamn enraged alligator, and Abathur was probably the stupidest healthcare professional ever, since his first instinct was to keep that momentum going and rush straight for the reptile. Which he did, for a moment, running up the reptile's side and trying to pierce its scales with his fangs, something that didn't quite work but could potentially slow it down. At least now the gator had paused to try and wrestle a foe that had already left.
The instinct to stop the alligator had faded now, and not dying while trying to wrangle an alligator was about as high a priority as making sure Leroy didn't. Medical service was hard to accomplish while moving, he had to admit, but it was better to assess the situation and see exactly how hurt the wolfdog was than it was to get injured trying to stop an opponent he wasn't big enough to fight, especially after confirming he wasn't strong enough to injure it. If he was his natural size, maybe, but... "Subject Leroy," the spider grumbled out, loud and clear, making a small hop off the alligator and speeding to the reformed canine's side, just barely avoiding a limb injury of his own. "How bad is injury?" That was his main question, and the only one he could really ask. If Leroy was allowed to be stationary, he could assess a lot more, even prepare some bandages or a splint, but Leroy was running from an alligator instead, an alligator that wasn't giving up for some reason, despite the fact that it had almost lost its prey and would be better lurking in the depths again. Maybe it would stop after they ran in a bit, but this was one crazy alligator already, so that seemed unlikely at best.
He was half tempted to shout for help, but from what he knew of clan life, that was pretty unnecessary. Someone else would be here very, very soon.
Not really, if you couldn't tell - he didn't really have a middle name. But it might as well be, since he specialised in emergency surgery and such. You had to, if you were a medic in these places. Nobody came to your office with a cold, they were either missing a leg or paralyzed from the waist down. Kind of ridiculous, how many serious, tragic accidents happened here, but it wasn't as ridiculous as a massive spider who was also coincidentally a surgeon.
Abathur was prepped as soon as he heard "FUCK" reverberating through the marsh despite its oppressive atmosphere, rushing towards the noise faster than he had ever moved in Tanglewood, though that momentum was noticeably stopped as soon as he saw the situation. Leroy, limping along with three legs, running away from an enraged alligator. Now he felt like the one that should curse - he was just a spider, he couldn't kill a goddamn alligator. The scales were too thick for his fangs, as far as he knew, even if those were long enough to cause massive brain damage to the average feline. This wasn't an average domestic cat, though, this was a goddamn enraged alligator, and Abathur was probably the stupidest healthcare professional ever, since his first instinct was to keep that momentum going and rush straight for the reptile. Which he did, for a moment, running up the reptile's side and trying to pierce its scales with his fangs, something that didn't quite work but could potentially slow it down. At least now the gator had paused to try and wrestle a foe that had already left.
The instinct to stop the alligator had faded now, and not dying while trying to wrangle an alligator was about as high a priority as making sure Leroy didn't. Medical service was hard to accomplish while moving, he had to admit, but it was better to assess the situation and see exactly how hurt the wolfdog was than it was to get injured trying to stop an opponent he wasn't big enough to fight, especially after confirming he wasn't strong enough to injure it. If he was his natural size, maybe, but... "Subject Leroy," the spider grumbled out, loud and clear, making a small hop off the alligator and speeding to the reformed canine's side, just barely avoiding a limb injury of his own. "How bad is injury?" That was his main question, and the only one he could really ask. If Leroy was allowed to be stationary, he could assess a lot more, even prepare some bandages or a splint, but Leroy was running from an alligator instead, an alligator that wasn't giving up for some reason, despite the fact that it had almost lost its prey and would be better lurking in the depths again. Maybe it would stop after they ran in a bit, but this was one crazy alligator already, so that seemed unlikely at best.
He was half tempted to shout for help, but from what he knew of clan life, that was pretty unnecessary. Someone else would be here very, very soon.
tags - "speech"