The blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

It burned in his throat, and his head swam. He swallowed it down, refusing to throw up. He was showing enough weakness as it was. If there was any strength in Demelza she would pounce on it now. Rip him to shreds, because he was proving what he had always feared. There was weakness in his soul. 


He got up, staggering and unbalanced, regretting the drink he had partaken too readily in. He made his way to the small healing kit she had started to build since she had been living here. He grabbed something better to bind her with, and a board to straighten the limb. He grabbed the pain relief paste she was allowed to keep purely for his own use as well. 


He returned to her, and propped her head up on his leg. “How much paste can I safely give you? Stay with me Demelza, answer the question.” He ordered her groggy eyes.