"I can just heat something up to cauterize the wound, but I didn't want to bother anybody else with the smell of burning flesh, so I didn't earlier," he adds, as if to try and make it seem any better that there was a gaping hole in his leg.
In another life, Rhiv might have gone through with that, but if there was a distinction between medic and assistant, this was it.
He made his way to the Dragonkin, nudging past too-close beds, the fire pit, and a trio of supposed medics whose concerns were elsewhere. Despite his size, he moved lightly across the stony ground like a morning shadow. There was the slightest shift in his shoulders, the closest thing to a greeting bow Rhiv could manage. With a sturdy gaze, he took a few heartbeats to assess the wound entirely.
How long was it, and how deep? Was it fresh, or was this new patient walking on a rotting deathwish? Spider-stalk should numb it, though Rhiv hadn't the permission to work much further. He'd have to ask the other medics, wouldn't he?
"Can walk, laddie." It was a question, but his hefty monotone did little in conveying that. "Free bed, aye. Past the tine oscailte."
Another beat. "Past the fire," Rhiv corrected himself. The word was odd and unfamiliar on his tongue, a byproduct of having been forced out of his native dialect here.
"You wanna handle this, Rhiv, or should I? We'll need to clean it out and see how to close it… might wind up cauterizing it after all…" He devolved into mumbling as he thought about his options, his mind racing as he questioned whether they had needles strong enough to sew Dragonkin skin shut, but still thin enough to not cause new wounds, whether the wound could just be covered, etc, etc…
Was someone talking to him? He glanced over his shoulder, and - oh! One of the gawkers had finished their staring, and presently, they were standing close. In a few strides, they passed him up and began poking about the Dragonkin's wound.
"Can numb it. Not much else." Rhiv muttered darkly. "Aye. Just'n assistant.
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