book 1: arrivals

It only takes a few moments before the girl wakes up. Gil watches her with an intense gaze as she begins to cough. He only scoots slightly away as she leans over to hack up all the blood and sand she'd inhaled. Thanking the heavens that it wasn't all over him, he still doesn't allow his gaze to leave. From what he can see, her condition is perilous. One step away from the edge. For as much of an asshole as he is, he doesn't wish death upon anyone who doesn't deserve it.

He finally lets out a sigh of relief as she thanks him for saving her. A brow lifts in silent regard. Who was she and what was she doing out here alone? She didn't look like a puppy, but she was... tiny. A grumble resounds in his chest as he scoots back in when he feels her roll slightly more toward him. Why didn't he know shit all about healing? Perhaps it was time he did.

With good timing, Urtur arrives. Clasped in his mouth is a bundle of cloth that he helps place upon the open wound over her hip. "Her head," Gil rumbles as he moves to gently nudge her face slightly away from him. "It might hurt, but we have to," his voice is a raspy whisper as he helps Urtur slide the cloth under her chin and then messily tie it around her head so that there is pressure over the wound there too. "We have to get her to the isle," the concern in his voice is stern as he looks at Urtur. Would she die on the way back? Looking back at the girl, he lets out a sigh.

"Can you walk?" Gil asks though he's sure the answer is no. One of her ankles looks to be broken.

"speech"