She nods and pulls out a flask. "It's not much, but it's all we have for disinfectant so be sparing."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James nodded, but went to grab his herbs that he still had from the forest. "You use it for you." He explained, "I have this." He held up a small bowl of the crushed glowing plants.
He wet some cloths with water to help clean off the blood as well, and handed one to Tasha.
She takes it with a slight smile and pulls her shirt off around the wound, cleaning it with a wince. "Thanks."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James sat down and did the same, cleaning the three shallow slices across his chest from the grangor's claw. It seemed that Tasha had a similar wound, though deeper than his. As he cleaned his own wound, he kept looking up to see how she was doing, and if she was able to get the bleeding under control.
The bleeding isn't stopping very easily, but she doesn't say a word about it as she cleans it off and presses a rag to it, which quickly soaks through. Frowning, the soldier grabs her leather pouch and gets some ground herbs from it.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James watched her fuss for a moment before stepping in. Holding a larger rag he sat beside her, giving a small sigh through his nose. "Here... let me help you put pressure on it." With there being three claws on the grangor's paw, therefore three cuts, she'd need an extra hand.
"I don't want you to get it all 'clean' only to loose all the blood you have."
"Thanks," she answers, with a small smile through the pain. "How are you doing, though? The grangor threw you around quite a bit."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James held the rag to two of the cuts, putting pressure down on them in hopes of stopping the bleeding, and giving the blood time to clot.
"Oh, I feel terrible." He gave a weak grin, but it was warm, and sincere. "Like my whole body is a bruise. You know, you should try it sometime. It's a wild ride." He gave his best attempt at humor, what with his head feeling like it did. "Kind of uh, makes your head pound. Like a heartbeat. In your head."
"I know the feeling," she chuckles, then immediately regrets it. "I tried to ride a wild gryphon once."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Oof. Really?" He tried to smile, hoping conversation would take both of their focuses off of the pain. "They're very fierce beasts. What made you try to ride one?"
"A dare, actually. I was gambling and lost - we didn't have any money, really, so we usually said that the worst loser had to do something that the winner decided. Thana, the girl who won and who was at the time one of my worst enemies, told me to go find a gryphon and ride it."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Ah. Well, I'm glad you walked away from it alright." He replied, looking down at her wounds and observing the slower blood flow. "Did you make bets like that often?"
"Oh yes. Thankfully I grew out of my rashness of youth."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Yes, thankfully, most of us learn from our pasts... and grow out of that." He looked down briefly, remorse hidden in his eyes. "It seems you grew up into a fine soldier, though. Thank you... for helping me. You... you really didn't have to. Thank you..."
"Of course I did. Not like I was going to kill that oversized kitty cat myself, was I?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return. — Genesis 3:19
Gender:
Points: 481
Reviews: 117