Put a plaster on it
04-21-2015, 09:13 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-21-2015, 09:13 AM by Sorel.)
Although they'd all been caught up in the moment of the hunt, it had soon become pretty clear that Frith had wounded himself during the mayhem of hunting the goat. He may not have often shown any sort of care to most of the pack though moments like these some form of compassion would show through. He wasn't taking no for an answer, Frith was definitely going to let him look at that wound and Sorrel was definitely going to do something about it, they had to get away from everyone else first though. "Aslan will look after Fate. This way." An almost authoritative tone overtook his voice, so out of place for Sorrel really especially given that the Chapter was speaking to the Author. It certainly wasn't his place to tell Frith what to do but as a healer he was going to and as a patient, well Frith and just better listen. He wouldn't be too happy if he couldn't do his job and frankly he was pretty sure that Novella wouldn't have been happy for Frith to continue wandering around without having someone look at his injury. |
04-21-2015, 11:55 AM
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04-21-2015, 12:13 PM
The ideal thing probably would have been to drive everyone else out of the way rather than making Frith drag himself. For that reason Sorrel wouldn't drag him off too much of a distance, just closer to the water. Ellingham could fetch any herbs for him, he had already called the owl and hopefully he wouldn't take too long to get here or else perhaps he would have to drag Aslan or someone away from the rest of the group to go and get something. Fortunately the alpha followed without question and once they were far enough out of the way Sorrel came to a stop, once more turning his mismatched gaze to his uncle as the strangely authoritative tone, the one of a particularly stern healer, rang out once more. "Lie down, on your good side." He ordered, wasn't much good him lying upon the wounded side after all. They needed to put some pressure on that wound and stop it from bleeding so much. Ellingham would arrive sharply, clearly a little shocked by the state of Frith, gaze wishing to linger upon the wounded Author though forcing themselves to look towards Sorrel, an almost expectant look upon his face. "Yarrow and meadowsweet." Sorrel informed his companion, used to the wolf's blunt manner Ellingham wouldn't question anything and took off without another word. The two were rather common and he was sure that Sorrel had been sure to stock some in each of the little herb stocks that the boy had around Threar. |