#bested by stone

Daily Writing Challenge Day 7 - Loyalty February's Prompt for March of Withermore - Flowers Trigger warning: Mention of Blood

Deep breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. Focus, mental clarity, long slow deep breaths, it all aided with pain management. It was at that moment a terrified scream sounded from the medical tent entry, the kind of scream that made everyone jump and look especially after what had taken place here tonight. Stone however remained calm and continued breathing. It didn’t help that he was gripping a plank of splintered wood shoved into the rubble of the stone wall at the back of the tent and shrouded in the darkened corner of it to boot. Arms overhead with his palms facing away from him, his feet hanging with his arms straight and core engaged and his head slightly bowed in that meditative state. The dead hang was an effective exercise to help with decompressing the spine, but to the poor healer who entered the tent it looked at first sight as if Stone was a body hanging on the wall and yet another victim in the bloody walls and battered stones of Wither Post. His wintery grey eyes opened slowly to stare at the healer with a cold unamused gaze. It didn’t help that he was rather tall and large here compared to most of the humans and Thalassian elves that lingered. Even if he was unimposing for his brand of elf, taller was still bigger. The woman tried to calm herself, realizing he was both alive and just stretching as those looking about nearby continued their work healing the injured. “I’m, I’m so sorry I thought, you were the one with the hip injury.” “Present.” She blinked at him, stepping forward and motioning to the cot before him asking him to lay down so she could heal him. Stone didn’t look like he wanted her anywhere near him, but despite that he slowly released the plank and stepped with a limp onto the cot, laying on his stomach. She took one look at him and all the blood that was staining his armor from the hip joint down the back of his leg clear to his boot. The bloodied armor covered the injury too much to see what was wrong but there was no cut or tear in it to even get a peek that way. “Oh um, I’m sorry, but I need you to…” “Are you without magic?” Stone interrupted firmly. “No, I mean yes I am a healer but I need to see...” “Magic heals through clothing.” His voice was sharp as if this was non negotiable with him. She stared at him confused by his insistence to remain clothed. It was odd and with that amount of blood she needed to see just how bad it was. He might need stitching and infection being the biggest concern, or it might even be broken. With confusion and frustration setting in with her patient, she stepped in closer and held her hands out a bit hesitant over his left hip. Stone focused a moment, deactivating a protection ward on himself hidden beneath the armor and suddenly the magic of the healer had access to do its work. But her healing could only do so much. “I, heard a rumor of a Kaldorei among the elite now. I didn’t know they…” “I’m not much for small chat.” He shut her down right away before she asked too many questions. Last thing he needed was cause for concern that a Horde race was among them with all of Dreadmist and Withermore’s current issues. Time and some intense awkward silence passed till she’d done all she could magically for his hip. She was still greatly concerned about that blood though and whatever condition his wound was in. Not to mention he was going to be sore as hell tomorrow if not already so with the blunt force trauma from the debris that had damn near broken and displaced his hip. But it had been a hidden knife blade in the back of his belt that impaled him in the back, the angle and force of that debris just right to be wrong but still a wound he could recover from. It wasn’t the first time he’d been stabbed with his own weapon, but it was the first time the man of Stone was bested by stone.

“I’ve done all I can for you for now, but I would ask you to at least let me apply something to help with the pain overnight.” “Leave it here. I’ll apply it myself.” The woman looked like she was about to argue or call him out… but she sighed and went to her pack to set the salve and ointment on his cot with a bit of a heavy drop. She was getting annoyed. “You need to stay here and rest, I can give you ice to apply and…” He again interrupted. “The salve is enough, you’ve my thanks.” He waved his hand as if to indicate for her to leave. Annoyed and offended both now, she turned and left to find her next patient. Pushing himself up, he ignored the pain he still felt as best he could as he pulled off one glove. He lowered his mask, opening the salve and sniffing at it as he checked its contents. Dreaming Glory, an anti-inflammatory antiseptic salve to aid in stopping the bleeding and irritation as well as reducing spasms in the muscles. Notes of Peacebloom also served as an anti-inflammatory to reduce bruising, swelling, and ease pain that helps with the cut and abrasion. He reached for the ointment and sniffed at it to inspect it as well. Jademoon, fuming Toadstool it seemed and maybe a hint of spineleaf. All numbing and healing agents which would help him with that pain. He didn’t detect herbs or floral that alarmed him at least, if anything he was impressed and grateful they were equipped with topical means. He applied them both where needed, dressed his own wound with some of the bandages in the tent and pocketed the salve to apply more later. He’d need it, and he knew it. Stepping outside the tent, he scanned the area for Vynlorin. Before he’d start his sweep of the area it was natural to make sure he was secure first. And as he scanned his eyes came across the healer who’d just helped him, staring at him with a frown. She rolled her eyes and went about her other duties leaving him be. Smart woman.