Jul 20 2021, 07:22 AM
The Blacksmith studied Forgraves, and fretted. How polite he was. How unwilling to be a burden! How gentle-minded and kind.
"Wait here, then, and rest... I will try to be quick. There is something... else I might try."
Forgraves was left, for a time, washed and bandaged beside the warmth of the forge. And the Blacksmith, meanwhile--legs still trembling from exertion--set out into Leo.
They were not easy plants to find. But he was the one who had settled them here: if anyone could find them, it was he. Little green spreads of leaves, thick and low to the ground, with sprays of small, delicate white flowers. He plucked the petals from a few, and the leaves from others, tucking them into his robes until he had a handful: and then he hastened back to his forge.
He worked tirelessly.
Blacksmithing tools were repurposed--put to use as mortar, as pestle, as bowl. The plants were crushed, steeped in water; and then more strips of cloth were soaked in the mushy green liquid that remained. Was Forgraves still awake-?
"I will... try this," he suggested carefully, bringing the poultice over. He had spent half his "resting" time in searching out these plants, and mashing them into medicine: now he moved to unwrap some of his prior bandaging, to replace it with this one. "It is not... magic. But it is... strong. It will... ease your pain... further. And hasten healing... and keep infection... at bay, for now." His voice was soft, soothing--as he hoped the green-soaked wraps would prove to be.
"Wait here, then, and rest... I will try to be quick. There is something... else I might try."
Forgraves was left, for a time, washed and bandaged beside the warmth of the forge. And the Blacksmith, meanwhile--legs still trembling from exertion--set out into Leo.
They were not easy plants to find. But he was the one who had settled them here: if anyone could find them, it was he. Little green spreads of leaves, thick and low to the ground, with sprays of small, delicate white flowers. He plucked the petals from a few, and the leaves from others, tucking them into his robes until he had a handful: and then he hastened back to his forge.
He worked tirelessly.
Blacksmithing tools were repurposed--put to use as mortar, as pestle, as bowl. The plants were crushed, steeped in water; and then more strips of cloth were soaked in the mushy green liquid that remained. Was Forgraves still awake-?
"I will... try this," he suggested carefully, bringing the poultice over. He had spent half his "resting" time in searching out these plants, and mashing them into medicine: now he moved to unwrap some of his prior bandaging, to replace it with this one. "It is not... magic. But it is... strong. It will... ease your pain... further. And hasten healing... and keep infection... at bay, for now." His voice was soft, soothing--as he hoped the green-soaked wraps would prove to be.
@Forgraves