[EVENT] An Old Soldier

[nineofswords]

Ronica of White Onisk - Retsuko

Ronnie had been more focused on tending to the wher's needs, and she'd taken her focus off the two candidates. It was a mistake, one she didn't realize until she'd finished pouring out water and rejoined the group, turning her eyes back to the wher and Retsuko creeping closer to him.

She'd stiffened in horror, unwilling to call out on the chance it startled both girl and wher. Onisk, get back here now, she'd snapped, but the white wasn't fast enough, couldn't possibly be. Ronnie had to watch as the wher did his damage and then ran off, finally free.

Ronnie ran straight to Retsuko. "You're alright," she said, before she'd even assessed the damage fully, more to reassure the other woman. "You're alright. Remember your training, you're going to go into shock. You'll start to feel cold, but don't you worry, we've got you. And you had the sense to bring numbweed, which will help." Ronnie pried the jar out of Retsuko's hands and spread some of it carefully over the bite. There were plenty of branches and things on hand, and she grabbed one that had the least number of spikes on it, holding it to the girl's arm. Ronnie herself was in leathers, not easy to tear strips off it to create bandages. "I'm sorry for this, I hope this shirt isn't important to you," she said, then cut the arm off of Retsuko's shirt. She used the one that had been subjected to the bite, at least, since it already had holes in it from the violence. She quickly turned the sleeve into ties to hold the stick in place and secure the arm.

She'd done what she could. The candidate was stable. She let out a breath. "I'm not strong enough to get her onto a wher myself," Ronnie said. "Can someone help? Whose wher has the smoothest gait?" She loved Onisk, but she didn't think her white was the wher for this. She was too easily distracted, and the smell of the candidate's blood might be upsetting for her, which would make her behavior less predictable.

[Grayson]

Demalis of ???Blue??? Mask

Everything was going well, no-one was... oh forsk. That Candidate was reaching out to the brown.

No!

"Stop!"

Mask lurched forward, but just a step - they were too late. A crunch and a rip, and blood, and the brown was heading out into the undergrowth.

Shards!

On.

Demalis swung themself onto the blue's harness. "We're Runners. We'll head up and let the Healers know to send someone down," they said. Mask was too small to carry someone injured comfortably, and the bluepair's speed was more useful elsewhere. Demalis and Mask were away a moment later, leaving only dust in their wake - dust and a simple thread of thought for the old brown, wherever he'd gone, delivered with gentle understanding.

No blame.

[Windra]

Candidate Retsuko

TW: Blood and gore.

It didn't fully register what was going on at first. The movement was so swift, so sudden ... Retsuko's world was being shaken about. Sky melded with ground and back again, swirling with a vibrant flash of brown that was brutally upon her. That snapping sound must be the twigs, right? Nothing to do with the vibration in her arm. No way. Her face hit the dirt, the mass of brown dispersing from view - tail and wings and scarred hide vacating into the forest from where it came.

"Hey, he's free," Retsuko mumbled, numbly.

And then it came.

Hot, searing agony - so intense that her stomach twisted with a violent urges. The stench of iron clogged her olfactories. Her arm was on fire. Pain was off the charts. Retsuko made to move but that crackling was audible with the slightest shift and with it arrived fresh daggers of molten lava. She gasped, thrusting her face down and bracing against the holy forsk what the forsk shit shit shit that overtook her.

"Ah ... ah ... "

Ronica was upon her, muttering words. The pain subsided - numbweed? - but the dull ache that lingered behind was almost as debilitating as the horridness that preceeded it. It didn't really dawn on Retsuko that she was violently shaking until she lifted her head to gaze upon the damage done. Flesh had been rend clear from bone, which looked no better than the tangle of gnarled roots they'd just excavated the wher from. Was her wrist supposed to bend like that? And it was ... thin. She was sure there was supposed to be meat on her arm, unless the big brown had taken it as a traveling snack. Red soaked her clothes, fertilized the topsoil.

you forsking idiot you knew he was gonna bite you so why the forsk did you ...

Welp. The wher was free no at least. Retsuko wheezed, sliding her knees beneath her chest. Slowly she pushed off the ground while Demalis offered - and then followed through - running back to the Weyr for help.

"Sucks." Retsuko stood. Shakily. She tucked the splinted, bandaged appendage close to her chest, smearing crimson upon her shirt - it already soaked through the wrapping of torn cloth - and refusing the move it further. The stain was growing with each passing beat. "I c-caa ... I can walk ... "

She staggered forth, everything wonky and her trajectory failing. Retsuko's little body shifted to the right, caught a vine. The candidate struggled to upright her gait.

"Ahll bhee fine - "

Splotches of black obscured her vision. Her breath escaped her. When she blinked again, she lay upon the freshly upturned mulch where the wher lay moments before. It hung heavy with his musk.

Dimglow. Anger burned her chest. Not at the brown. At herself for making such a rookie damn mistake. Tears sprang into her eyes, spawning rivulets that ran the length of her cheeks. Was there an earth tremor or was she really shuddering that badly? Frozen. She was freezing.

"Numbweed," she whined. Where was the jar she'd had? Amidst the feral wher's thrashing, it'd gone flying. "Cold."