Wheeling Gull Isle suffering

it doesn't take long to coax her back to consciousness, if anything, this time around it proved much easier than the last and whatever energy she'd been storing up appeared to have been ignited as she smells the fresh kill. he takes a few steps back to give her privacy as she eats ...though eat is putting it mildly. she devours the rabbit as if she is famine reincarnated. when she is done, brisbane notes as he spares what is left of the rabbit, there are only big bones leaving nothing to the scavengers. brisbane's attention returns to her as she thanks him. you're lucky i found you when i did, wounds aside she'd faced a real threat of being the sea's latest victim. the sea's rarely kind. it was a bizarre way of saying 'you're welcome' but it's what the blackshark means, in so many words.

the conversation shifts then to the next priority: her wounds. clinically, he moves closer so he can inspect the damage as she speaks of it. her shoulder, primarily. she calls it 'wrecked' and he has to agree with it. it looks pretty fucked up and a lot of out of his depth. though the specialities of botanist and healer often overlap the more involved things are better left to a healer; but they're stranded on this isle until the sand bar returns with the recession of the tide and not only that, he wouldn't even know where to begin to look for a healer.

for better or worse, he's all she has. i'm a botanist, he explains. a healer might be able to do a little more when it comes to extensive injuries, such as her shoulder. but i can still heal. he assures her. i could give you something for the pain and i can make a salve to keep infection at bay and keep it clean, though salt water's a great disinfectant. he turns a thoughtful eye, of twin fiery suns to study her to see if he could determine any other injuries. try to feel past your shoulder. does anything else hurt?