11-22-2018, 01:28 AM
☁ Pierce had just recently started to become more active around this place, and while he didn't really have much authority over anything, nor did he really know what he was doing, he'd been doing his best to play his part in this new community. As in any other group, patrols were pretty standard for every member, to go greet strangers within and at the borders. Given his experience in clans - he'd lived in about three or four different ones in the past two years -, it didn't feel too unnatural to jump into action when it came to normal clan things, like patrols, clan organization, raid planning, and the like. After all, one didn't leave their position as vice-leader of the same clan for over a year with no experience in any fields among the clan.
However, despite his experience with clanlife and the drama and violence that came with it, gore still made him sick to his stomach. Not in the oh-that's-so-gross sense, but rather in relation to his own personal experiences with violence in his own life and among his family's lives. He'd seen so many slaughtered and tortured that by now he almost expected it whenever met with the familiar, metallic stench of blood.
It was just that smell that had met his nose when he paused on his little journey around the Ascendants' territory, his stomach churning slightly as he raised his head, amber gaze sweeping over the grassy hills and soon coming to rest on the bloodied form of Tydeus. "Oh god, oh god," the serval mumbled to himself, hurrying in the direction of the other wildcat. "Are you- are you okay, mister? Can I help you?" Despite the nausea that was overwhelming him now, Pierce tried to focus on the subject at hand, which was helping clean this guy up. He was certainly no medic, but he'd had family that specialized in medicine and along with his personal history with hurting himself, he did know a few things- though, they were mostly "make sure injuries are clean" and "bandage wounds to protect from infection", so basically common knowledge.
Pierce fumbled with his satchel, knowing he had to have some sort of towel or bandage in there somewhere. In the meantime, he spoke, "I'm Pierce. Can you tell me what happened to you, sir?"
"speech"
However, despite his experience with clanlife and the drama and violence that came with it, gore still made him sick to his stomach. Not in the oh-that's-so-gross sense, but rather in relation to his own personal experiences with violence in his own life and among his family's lives. He'd seen so many slaughtered and tortured that by now he almost expected it whenever met with the familiar, metallic stench of blood.
It was just that smell that had met his nose when he paused on his little journey around the Ascendants' territory, his stomach churning slightly as he raised his head, amber gaze sweeping over the grassy hills and soon coming to rest on the bloodied form of Tydeus. "Oh god, oh god," the serval mumbled to himself, hurrying in the direction of the other wildcat. "Are you- are you okay, mister? Can I help you?" Despite the nausea that was overwhelming him now, Pierce tried to focus on the subject at hand, which was helping clean this guy up. He was certainly no medic, but he'd had family that specialized in medicine and along with his personal history with hurting himself, he did know a few things- though, they were mostly "make sure injuries are clean" and "bandage wounds to protect from infection", so basically common knowledge.
Pierce fumbled with his satchel, knowing he had to have some sort of towel or bandage in there somewhere. In the meantime, he spoke, "I'm Pierce. Can you tell me what happened to you, sir?"
"speech"