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Old 12-11-2006, 06:27 PM   #304
Folwren
Messenger of Hope
 
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Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States.
Posts: 5,228
Folwren is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Folwren is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Only a few minutes after Athwen had finished bandaged Hadith, she was called back to her duty. She spotted Khamir and his two companions drawing near, carrying between all three of them the figure of the Dwarf. Athwen’s eyes widened with a sudden feeling of fear and she started forward even before the one armed man called out to her.

She ran quickly before them and prepared a place for the Vrór to be laid. As the three of them set him down, Khamir explained, to the best of this ability, what was wrong. “The tunnel collapsed on him. I do not know what is wrong, but he has not moved at all. He is breathing but not so well...”

Athwen’s mind was already racing. She could only spare Khamir a nod and that was even given without looking up at him. Then her attention fell only to the dwarf. The dear old fellow, usually so vibrant and full of life, usually merry. She couldn’t help but remember their journey together even as she searched for some way to help him.

She didn’t know how to tend someone buried alive. She knew only a little of saving someone half drowned. Remembering that knowledge, she tipped his head back a little. His mouth opened slightly. Her fingers sought for a pulse in his neck, pressing against the vein by his throat. She felt the blood pass slowly once, and again, and consistently, though slowly, his heart still beat. With a slight sigh of relief, she dropped his hand and tended to the gash in his head. In a few minutes, she had done what she could.

“He still breaths and lives,” she said, looking up. “I do not know what else to do for him!” It was both an apology and despair mixed with hope. “I will try to help him more later,” she added, looking back down. “There are others that are in more danger and who I will be able to help.” For in the few breif minutes that she had spent checking Vrór, others had been helped back to her.

Her eyes went first to Adnan who had sat silently a little to her right. He had been one of those who carried Vrór in. She gave him as encouraging a smile as she could muster. “You aren’t in any condition to have carried in Vrór,” she said as she moved over towards him. He made no reply, but moved his eyes towards her. Athwen lifted her hand and turned his face slightly to look at the bloody cheek, and then her eyes dropped towards his chest where blood had seeped through his shirt.

“Let me get water. Can you take off your shirt?” She half turned to get a bucket, but stopped abruptly as Adnan silently lifted his hands to try to undo the buttons. “Good heavens, boy!” she exclaimed as here eyes spotted the mangled hand. “Stop it!” She reached out and gently took the clumsily bandaged hand. Adnan did not struggle as Athwen undid the bandage from his fingers and his wrist. “Sit still,” Athwen commanded when she had seen the damage. “Don’t do anything.”

She turned away and went to move some water and her pack to Adnan. Her hand reached out to take the pack when someone came and stopped by her side.

“Can I help?”

Athwen looked up. It was Azhar, standing with her hands clasped behind her back and her large eyes looking solemnly into Athwen’s face. Athwen smiled a little and as she straightened up, put her hand on the girl’s arm.

“Maybe. We’ll find out and see. How are you doing yourself? Do you still feel badly?” She looked at Azhar’s face and touched her forehead. The flush of fever had gone from her cheeks, her eyes were clear, and no heat came from her face to Athwen’s hands.

“I am well,” Azhar said. “I would like to help you.”

“Very well, then. Come with me.”

She turned and led the way back to Adnan, but before she could say anything at all to either of them, cries broke out, and the sound of pounding hooves faintly reached their ears. Khamir started up to his feet and even Adnan struggled to rise.

“You should not,” Khamir said to him, turning only long enough to say that. Then he went out, leaving Adnan with Athwen and Azhar, as well as all the others who had been brought in. Adnan continued to rise, but Athwen grabbed his unharmed wrist and tugged at him.

“No! What do you think you can do out there, except finish getting yourself killed? Sit down and let me fix you up. Please!”

Last edited by Folwren; 12-13-2006 at 01:28 PM.
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