Boot camp for battle medics
Sedna
Master Intellectual (240)
Master Healer (240)
Chaotic
8 Years
Female
45
NachoMumma
The snare had been a wicked thing, meant to maim rather than kill, and it had served its purpose well. The small dik dik caterwauled as the monochrome healer dragged it home, one leg hanging uselessly, shattered bone protruding from the skin, the others equally broken, but by her own jaws (it wouldn’t do to have their patient running off on them, this was a healing lesson, not hunting). In the end, the stress of the whole endeavour would be it’s death but she hoped, at least, to give it’s sacrifice some purpose in training the next generation of healers for the Armada.
In preparation, she and Otis had laid out a sampling of herbs. Some were anaesthetics, some were poisons, and of course there was a good selection of splints and bandages, needles and threads. It wasn’t like they had a lot to spare with winter deeply upon them, but what she had offered had been rationed from her private stores. A hide was spread out in the open air next to her garden, the screaming patient deposited unceremoniously in the middle, and the woman moved back to howl and summon any budding healer that wanted a lesson to come, and with haste. Their patient was losing blood and soon the adrenalin would fade from its system. Of course, if they didn’t make it in time, there was always the opportunity to turn it into an anatomy lesson.
"speech".
is if I am a killer too
![[Image: mangomouse.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/L6xQbV4/mangomouse.jpg)