Broken Antler Fen church burner

Bridget’s tale was as fascinating as it was gruesome, not to mention informative. Caracal never would have guessed a bite could lead to an amputation, although he realized it must have been due to a bad infection. He grimaced when he thought of just how they’d managed to remove a leg. He was glad she didn’t get into it, he wasn’t entirely sure he could handle the mental imagery. On that note, he had to swallow a bubble of hysterical laughter when he pictured a disembodied leg, which flopped about in his mind’s eye for some reason. What on earth had they done with it…?

Actually, he said brightly, tearing his eyes off her stump, which at least looked cleanly healed if not particularly natural, I’m a medic’s apprentice in a pack on the other side of those mountains. He pointed at the Barrier range, blushing a little when the ‘cool guy’ compliment suddenly landed. Although I hardly spend any time there. I guess I can’t sit still very well, I always want to be out and about…

Only as he said it did he realize just how poorly this might reflect on him. Was Lane disappointed that he was hardly ever around to teach? Would Bridget think he sounded like a big old flake? He coughed and tried to offset any such thing by saying, Hey, did you know you’re the one who originally got me interested in medicine? Were you aware, Caracal added, tone going a little goofier, you’re an inspiration?