Silver Moraine sky hand

there were not many things in which yikaas was skilled. but the things he knew, he understood well. 

first, transaction. each supply gathered must be counted, and as the caribou hunter worked over the exposed skull, he felt that sum against this life gather.

secondly — a long slap of sludging trailed now over the wound, covering it as the medicine hardened beneath, slowly pulling the torn edges of skin together again.

"i save you. you answer to me."

yikaas laughed a hard ugly sound as he finished his task and stepped back to look into the rolling eyes of the near-senseless stranger.

he could stop infection. he could not bring back speech, nor walking, nor help the man if his mind no longer worked to keep him alive. only the ice raven knew such things.