Redhawk Caldera so please don't get me rescued.

He doesn't know what to do and neither do I! >_>

Finley echoed Elwood's own thoughts by asking who he thought he would call to help -- there really was no one. And even though he felt the same way, he shrunk away at the sharpness of her tone. He knew that it wasn't her fault -- that she was apparently in a great deal of pain -- but the helplessness they both experienced only seemed to make things worse. He felt inadequate and desperate, and his pulse quickened with each passing second.

She suggested -- through gritted teeth -- that he had perhaps kicked her in his sleep, but he shook his head. He didn't think he had; and if that were the case, how could he have pummeled her hard enough to cause this much damage? Something was wrong, very wrong, and Elwood thought back to Finley's bout of nausea a few weeks ago. Maybe it was a lingering effect of the illness -- it could have been a much worse bug than they initially thought.

Had he hands, he would have been wringing them fretfully. He nudged at her gently as she curled inward, struck by what appeared to be another wave of intense pain, offering her the only thing that he could -- his presence.