ode to the fallen (m)

Thistle growled at her husband You foolish Viking. I don't care why he took it, do you realize that you could die simply from shock and then where would that leave the bay? Hmm! By all that is holy, if you weren't injured right now Ragnar I'd hurt you myself! She continued to lap at his eye socket, the tang of blood and salt and mucous making her stomach turn. She was unsure what to do with the tendrils of nerves and muscles that still hung there. She didn;t know if it would be safe to remove them. So instead she just fought to clean it up so she could see what she had left to work with.

Lay down right now Ragnar. You need to tell me immediately if your pulse sky rockets, if you are confused, if you can't breath and if yo uare lightheaded. Though those damned mushrooms that i smell all over you are not going to help. She snarled again and continued to work quickly and as efficiently as possible. For a moment she was so very glad she was not pregnant or had any aversions to blood loss, because she probably would have been puking up her lungs had any of that been present.

She mentally went through all she needed to do, but frankly her heart was beating so hard she thought she'd die herself. What was she to do if she lost him? The fear of losing him was overwhelming and it was all she could really think about. Swiftly put was that he was not in the clear and she wasn't sure how his body would react to the dratted shock it was bound to go into. He could have a heartattack or lose his pulse immediately.