♕ Judessa & Lyon ♘

“I’ve always forgotten how wounds such as these can progress.  I’d say I’m sorry, yet… you and I both know, we’d be dead if I didn’t take that route out.”  One of Judessa’s ears twitched, a few soft whispers once more telling her that she had done exactly as she should have.  Praise!  A smile flickered on Judessa’s expression, smug as she continued on. “No sepsis here.  No lingering magical burns… You’re going to be troublesome for a little while, I’m afraid.  Why can you not just be a death knight or something else.  Cut an arm off they’ll keep on swinging.”  Now certainly wasn’t the time for Judessa to be comparing Ratheinis to any local dead folk.  The old lump of cotton that she extracted from the wound was soaked with blood in various states of drying or simply turning into ooze depending on how far it had been stuffed into the raw spot where Ratheinis had taken a very aggressive blade.  The deep reds and browns were tinted with a very faint purple, Judessa tilting her head and eyeing the edges of the old cotton until her head hurt and her eyes failed to see anything out of the usual.  She knew that smell, beyond the coppery blood and the soft, warm scent of hurt flesh.  It wasn’t good to most.  She knew better than that.