Ah, bloody hell, [ it's muttered under her breath and to herself.
Being a doctor is a curse at times. She can judge the wound, it's length, how deep it goes, and what a danger it is merely by running her fingers along it. That and the blood that is starting to seep into her shirt and down her back. It's a wide gash, having gone at least down to the muscle. Helen sucks her breath in and pushes herself from the front door.
Stuck in a cabin that operates as a satellite for the Sanctuary Network. T he same old story. A rare abnormal was on the lose, and it was better to attempt to contain it to its territory than let it wander into the civilization beyond the woods as the snow storm hit. Then, as par usual, the snow storm escalated. The interesting thing about this abnormal? It was rather docile itself, but, always had another species that would protect it. she must have gotten too close -- at least it was only a few meters back to the cabin.
Helen stumbles into the living room and straightens herself. Bad move. She instantly regrets it, grabbing onto the arm of the couch to steady herself. There had been a hope to hide the injury from her cabin mate. Except it's bleeding a fair amount. Funny, really. She's the one that is supposed to fuss. ]
It's scared, [ she goes on as if it's not obvious she's wounded. ] And it's protector is highly aggressive. If anything, we'll need to wait until their natural sleep cycle kicks in... which, given the storm...
[ Helen's rather put out about that and not the injury. If she is to be entirely honest. ]
[ Once the weather really started moving in on them, he was already whinging. Of course it was mainly for show. Then Helen insisted they split up and try and cover more ground. He should've been more damned adamant about that telling her to sod off with that particular suggestion.
Now that he's finally looped back around to her, half-tucked up under her arm as they trudge through the deepening snow drifts, a glowing wisp to guide the way so they don't wind up freezing to death out there, he's abnormally quiet. He lets her talk, in part cause it's good that she can still manage it.
The other part is his anger will do little good in the present moment so best to shelve it for now. Anger is easier than worry, anger is like a flame burning up, worry is like a vice-grip on his heart and choking the air out of his throat. He has to let her go to get the door shut and the lights back on. Shrugging out of his coat, he tosses it over the back of a chair and stares balefully at the unlit fireplace. He'll sort it in a moment. ]
It's not the only thing around these parts feeling particularly aggressive. [ Gritted out through his teeth as he goes back to her. ] Lean on me, need to get you laying down so I can have a look.
[ Ah, Helen knows that tone. Especially that body language -- although it's never been really directed at her before. She almost wants to make a quip in an attempt to lighten the mood; to reassure him. Helen has had far worse than this injury in her long life. In fact, she'd even argue the emotional and mental injuries brought upon a certain someone are worse...
Ultimately, however, she knows better.
They always say that doctors are the worst patients.
One hand raises to grab his arm, steadying herself as she moves to remove her long winter coat. Rather ridiculous considered its cut down the back and whatever heat retention it had is far gone out the window. She does as he asks, leaning towards him as she struggles but stubbornly refuses to simply let him do it all. ]
I could tell you exactly where it is, possibly how deep it is, and how wide... but I doubt that would help.
[ They've both dealt with too much of this for their likings over time. Of course her experience in this matter far outweighs his own. She is a doctor after all. And he has no doubt she's suffered worse than this. Those times were also probably in areas not the bloody wilderness.
While she grabs his arm to steady herself, he stays still enough to not jostle so much. The coat is ruined which is enough to prove the grim extent of the wound. If she's going to be so stubborn then he utters a soft incantation, eyes glowing in amber briefly before flame alights atop his open palm and with a flick of his wrist ignites the fire in the hearth. ]
Love, the only thing I need to know right now is if this is something I can fix here with the kit you've got and whatever else is in this ruddy house.
There is a first aid kit, yes, but I doubt it can fix the injury. Patch it up until we're able to return to civilization.
[ She gives him a bit of a pointed look before nodding slightly. Helen gently leans to the side as the fire comes to life in his hand. Best just to give him room - just in case.
In the mean time, she shreds the coat. Then she goes about the delicate task of removing her shirt in order to better see the wound. ]
I would say that depends far more on your patience than it does mine, John.
[ It says in so many words 'I've no idea.' Storms can last days and she'd find a way to soldier and muster on. She doubts John would let that stand. She could simply see him betting the dice and opening a portal to hop them somewhere. Though, she is saving that as an utter last resort. ]
Hm. I'll make sure to find one that is free of things that bang on about them.
[ A playful remark in an attempt to ease the situation. She moves with his direction, knowing that he's going to fuss in his own way. The wound is certainly one made of claw marks. A few inches deep into the skin. The shirt is soaked in blood and rather glued to her skin in that regard. Helen scrunches her face up in pain when he can't see it. ]
I'd say it more depends on how you're faring once we've got this more manageable.
[ John's mouth turns down into a frown. He doesn't like the uncertainty but he understands it. He doesn't like the idea of being stuck out there out of the range of aid with her hurt as she is. Right now, he doesn't have to chance the barmy idea of opening a portal, but he might have to consider it as a contingency. ]
Good luck in this town.
[ A chance at humor that he doesn't really feel. No, he's too tense for all that and too focused on seeing what he can do for her. Once the jacket is free, it is just the ruined shirt failing at covering anything up. His jaw tenses and he reaches up to gently touch her shoulder, away from the wounds. ]
It doesn't look like it tickles, love. I'll get the kit.
[ She has half the mind to tell him to stop being so dodgy about how bad the wound is. Doctors could make terrible patients, but, she has an inkling of how horrid it must look. Her head turns to look over her shoulder with her eyebrows raised. ]
There is absolutely no need to sugarcoat the situation with me, John.
[ Even if she suspects it has far more to do with how he himself is handling it than her.
Regardless of the reason, she nods to his statement. Once he is up and about? She starts to slowly try and remove her shirt. A low hiss escapes her at it. It feels like pulling off a bandaid in a way. Which means extensive blood loss and no doubt she'll start feeling the effects of that rather soon. ]
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synthneon2021-02-11 07:57 pm
@oldhound | psl. wonderland, stranded, hurt/comfort
Being a doctor is a curse at times. She can judge the wound, it's length, how deep it goes, and what a danger it is merely by running her fingers along it. That and the blood that is starting to seep into her shirt and down her back. It's a wide gash, having gone at least down to the muscle. Helen sucks her breath in and pushes herself from the front door.
Stuck in a cabin that operates as a satellite for the Sanctuary Network. T he same old story. A rare abnormal was on the lose, and it was better to attempt to contain it to its territory than let it wander into the civilization beyond the woods as the snow storm hit. Then, as par usual, the snow storm escalated. The interesting thing about this abnormal? It was rather docile itself, but, always had another species that would protect it. she must have gotten too close -- at least it was only a few meters back to the cabin.
Helen stumbles into the living room and straightens herself. Bad move. She instantly regrets it, grabbing onto the arm of the couch to steady herself. There had been a hope to hide the injury from her cabin mate. Except it's bleeding a fair amount. Funny, really. She's the one that is supposed to fuss. ]
It's scared, [ she goes on as if it's not obvious she's wounded. ] And it's protector is highly aggressive. If anything, we'll need to wait until their natural sleep cycle kicks in... which, given the storm...
[ Helen's rather put out about that and not the injury. If she is to be entirely honest. ]
no subject
Now that he's finally looped back around to her, half-tucked up under her arm as they trudge through the deepening snow drifts, a glowing wisp to guide the way so they don't wind up freezing to death out there, he's abnormally quiet. He lets her talk, in part cause it's good that she can still manage it.
The other part is his anger will do little good in the present moment so best to shelve it for now. Anger is easier than worry, anger is like a flame burning up, worry is like a vice-grip on his heart and choking the air out of his throat. He has to let her go to get the door shut and the lights back on. Shrugging out of his coat, he tosses it over the back of a chair and stares balefully at the unlit fireplace. He'll sort it in a moment. ]
It's not the only thing around these parts feeling particularly aggressive. [ Gritted out through his teeth as he goes back to her. ] Lean on me, need to get you laying down so I can have a look.
no subject
Ultimately, however, she knows better.
They always say that doctors are the worst patients.
One hand raises to grab his arm, steadying herself as she moves to remove her long winter coat. Rather ridiculous considered its cut down the back and whatever heat retention it had is far gone out the window. She does as he asks, leaning towards him as she struggles but stubbornly refuses to simply let him do it all. ]
I could tell you exactly where it is, possibly how deep it is, and how wide... but I doubt that would help.
no subject
While she grabs his arm to steady herself, he stays still enough to not jostle so much. The coat is ruined which is enough to prove the grim extent of the wound. If she's going to be so stubborn then he utters a soft incantation, eyes glowing in amber briefly before flame alights atop his open palm and with a flick of his wrist ignites the fire in the hearth. ]
Love, the only thing I need to know right now is if this is something I can fix here with the kit you've got and whatever else is in this ruddy house.
no subject
[ She gives him a bit of a pointed look before nodding slightly. Helen gently leans to the side as the fire comes to life in his hand. Best just to give him room - just in case.
In the mean time, she shreds the coat. Then she goes about the delicate task of removing her shirt in order to better see the wound. ]
I thought you rather liked ruddy houses.
no subject
[ His jaw tenses at the comment but his attention goes to the fire, watching it spark to life. Once that is finished, he gives his all back to her. ]
I like them better when I'm not having to contend with things like this whilst banging about inside them. Here, let me help.
[ Carefully shifting to help her get out of the destroyed clothing with a minimum of fuss. ]
no subject
[ It says in so many words 'I've no idea.' Storms can last days and she'd find a way to soldier and muster on. She doubts John would let that stand. She could simply see him betting the dice and opening a portal to hop them somewhere. Though, she is saving that as an utter last resort. ]
Hm. I'll make sure to find one that is free of things that bang on about them.
[ A playful remark in an attempt to ease the situation. She moves with his direction, knowing that he's going to fuss in his own way. The wound is certainly one made of claw marks. A few inches deep into the skin. The shirt is soaked in blood and rather glued to her skin in that regard. Helen scrunches her face up in pain when he can't see it. ]
I imagine it looks rather terrible.
no subject
[ John's mouth turns down into a frown. He doesn't like the uncertainty but he understands it. He doesn't like the idea of being stuck out there out of the range of aid with her hurt as she is. Right now, he doesn't have to chance the barmy idea of opening a portal, but he might have to consider it as a contingency. ]
Good luck in this town.
[ A chance at humor that he doesn't really feel. No, he's too tense for all that and too focused on seeing what he can do for her. Once the jacket is free, it is just the ruined shirt failing at covering anything up. His jaw tenses and he reaches up to gently touch her shoulder, away from the wounds. ]
It doesn't look like it tickles, love. I'll get the kit.
no subject
There is absolutely no need to sugarcoat the situation with me, John.
[ Even if she suspects it has far more to do with how he himself is handling it than her.
Regardless of the reason, she nods to his statement. Once he is up and about? She starts to slowly try and remove her shirt. A low hiss escapes her at it. It feels like pulling off a bandaid in a way. Which means extensive blood loss and no doubt she'll start feeling the effects of that rather soon. ]
Bloody hell.