you say i'm mad

Chyrsanthos reached back into his pack to pull out a small selection of herbs. Yarrow would help reduce bleeding, lamb's ear would help with swelling and help to bind the wounds. Finally he had some wild garlic. A precious if smelly herb. The juice from this herb soaked in sphagnum moss was an excellent antiseptic and would help ward off infection and kill existing bacteria. He didn't have any moss with him but he felt mixing all the herbs with bentonite clay would serve as enough of an adherent for now since he would likely need to bathe the man.

Chrys looked up as the man spoke. "You don't need to give me anything. I want to help." He wanted to leave it at that because that was really the truth but he some how doubted the other man would find that a suitable explanation. So he tried adding on another reason. "I don't know much about what you believe in but my god would be pleased with me helping someone in need and it makes me happy to do so." When the man was finished drinking, Bolla hopped back over to him. Chrys dipped his head down to begin working the herbs into a mushy paste that he then mixed in with a bit of special clay. Satisfied he pulled the mixture, which sat in a ceramic bowl, over to the ailing man by pulling a piece of hide on which the bowl sat and dragging it over.

"Ok, this mix of herbs should help your wounds to heal. I'm going to go ahead and start putting it on ok?" He pondered what he would need to do next. He wished he still had his travois. If he did he could drag the man onto it and carry him more efficiently. At this point he'd have to maneuver the man onto his back and then carry his pack in his mouth.