12th Fall 513AV
It was the screaming that caught her attention. The wails were high pitched and full of pain. She wasn't the only healer to gaze towards the tent flap in anticipation of what was to come. One of the older male healers, Rodrin, hurried forward to pull back the flap to reveal a terrible sight.
A man, probably an Ankal judging by his bearing, clutched a small girl in his arms. She could have seen no more than 7 years. It was from her that the screams came and the cause was obvious, she was drenched in blood. Her clothes had probably been a dark green to begin with but were now stained a rusty red. The blood was in sharp contrast with her pale skin and her arms seemed to have been ravaged with claws and teeth. The wounds probably looked far worse than actually they were but the healers ushered them in in panic.
Waisana spotted a woman almost hidden behind the Ankal, deathly pale and the anguish was clear on her face. She was perfectly silent, probably to shocked to say anything. She just stared wild-eyed at her mutilated child who was thrashing in her father's arms calling for her mother. The girl's hands clasped tight around his neck to stop him handing her over to the healers. Her blood was streaked down his neck and bare chest from all her flailing. The poor child was terrified. She didn't want to be handed over to these hard and practical men, all businesslike and cold.
The young healer pushed herself past the older men, forcing herself through a gap so that she was in reach of the child, close enough that she could hear her.
"Come here, child. There's nothing to fear. We're going to help you, come on. Just let go," the horse maiden told the girl, her tone reassuring and filled with kindness. She rested a hand on the girl's back, rubbing it gently as she reached up to carefully unhook her grip. She rudely elbowed the other healers out of the way which earned a lot of muttering about not respecting her elders but she didn't care, all that mattered was the girl child.
The injured girl turned tear filled eyes upon her and she seemed to register her as some sort of mother figure because she all but leapt into her arms, clutching her tightly around the neck. Waisana staggered a bit at the force that hit her and the new weight she had to bear but she managed to right herself and carry the girl over to one of the work station
"Now I'm going to have to clean you up so that I can make it stop hurting. You're going to have to let go of me and just lie down here," she murmured, loosening the girl's grip on her tunic. It was probably ruined with the amount of blood that had already soaked into it but she could worry about that later. For now she laid the girl down on one of the beds and turned to the parents who'd followed her over.
She was a little intimidated when she turned to find the man looking at her, his face contorted in disdain. He probably saw her as a mere slip of a girl but she wasn't going to let his prejudice faze her. "What happened to her?" she asked the man, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking away to busy herself getting cloths and water to clean up the wounds.
"Hunting cat went mad. It attacked her. Had to shoot it. It was a good cat," he told her gruffly, his voice seeming to suggest that he was disappointed to lose the cat. He didn't seem to care that much about the child, though the mother clearly did but she seemed still unable to speak. Or maybe she was under orders not to. Perhaps her husband didn't want her to make a scene.
"Why don't you hold her hand while I treat her? It'll help to keep her calm," she said, turning to the mother. Sure enough she looked to her husband for consent and he grunted in answer, seemingly in the affirmative because the woman came and knelt beside her child. Her cleaning supplies got together, she began her treatment of the girl.
It was the screaming that caught her attention. The wails were high pitched and full of pain. She wasn't the only healer to gaze towards the tent flap in anticipation of what was to come. One of the older male healers, Rodrin, hurried forward to pull back the flap to reveal a terrible sight.
A man, probably an Ankal judging by his bearing, clutched a small girl in his arms. She could have seen no more than 7 years. It was from her that the screams came and the cause was obvious, she was drenched in blood. Her clothes had probably been a dark green to begin with but were now stained a rusty red. The blood was in sharp contrast with her pale skin and her arms seemed to have been ravaged with claws and teeth. The wounds probably looked far worse than actually they were but the healers ushered them in in panic.
Waisana spotted a woman almost hidden behind the Ankal, deathly pale and the anguish was clear on her face. She was perfectly silent, probably to shocked to say anything. She just stared wild-eyed at her mutilated child who was thrashing in her father's arms calling for her mother. The girl's hands clasped tight around his neck to stop him handing her over to the healers. Her blood was streaked down his neck and bare chest from all her flailing. The poor child was terrified. She didn't want to be handed over to these hard and practical men, all businesslike and cold.
The young healer pushed herself past the older men, forcing herself through a gap so that she was in reach of the child, close enough that she could hear her.
"Come here, child. There's nothing to fear. We're going to help you, come on. Just let go," the horse maiden told the girl, her tone reassuring and filled with kindness. She rested a hand on the girl's back, rubbing it gently as she reached up to carefully unhook her grip. She rudely elbowed the other healers out of the way which earned a lot of muttering about not respecting her elders but she didn't care, all that mattered was the girl child.
The injured girl turned tear filled eyes upon her and she seemed to register her as some sort of mother figure because she all but leapt into her arms, clutching her tightly around the neck. Waisana staggered a bit at the force that hit her and the new weight she had to bear but she managed to right herself and carry the girl over to one of the work station
"Now I'm going to have to clean you up so that I can make it stop hurting. You're going to have to let go of me and just lie down here," she murmured, loosening the girl's grip on her tunic. It was probably ruined with the amount of blood that had already soaked into it but she could worry about that later. For now she laid the girl down on one of the beds and turned to the parents who'd followed her over.
She was a little intimidated when she turned to find the man looking at her, his face contorted in disdain. He probably saw her as a mere slip of a girl but she wasn't going to let his prejudice faze her. "What happened to her?" she asked the man, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking away to busy herself getting cloths and water to clean up the wounds.
"Hunting cat went mad. It attacked her. Had to shoot it. It was a good cat," he told her gruffly, his voice seeming to suggest that he was disappointed to lose the cat. He didn't seem to care that much about the child, though the mother clearly did but she seemed still unable to speak. Or maybe she was under orders not to. Perhaps her husband didn't want her to make a scene.
"Why don't you hold her hand while I treat her? It'll help to keep her calm," she said, turning to the mother. Sure enough she looked to her husband for consent and he grunted in answer, seemingly in the affirmative because the woman came and knelt beside her child. Her cleaning supplies got together, she began her treatment of the girl.
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