Forest Survivor

Orcs. It had been strange, seeing their tracks on the forest floor. Smelling their blood in the air. Ashwyneth had often searched for plants and hunted for animals among these woods, and very rarely had she even heard of orcs here.

Still, despite knowledge that she hadn't yet found any of what she'd been searching for, something within her prompted her to find the source of the scent. Her instincts rarely had led her astray in her years, so she decided to follow the tracks. As she did so, the scent grew stronger and mingled with another,  more faint scent. One she often numbed herself.

Man's blood. The kind she was accustomed to in her infirmary.

She stepped over bodies and body parts which were clearly orcish, searching for something. Someone. She did not know, but she felt the frantic need to keep searching.

Nearby, she'd almost missed it. She froze. It was a man, slumped against a tree. "No...I am too late," she thought aloud as she gazed at the man. It was this moment he gave an unconscious groan, which immediately set her moving.

She had no idea how long he had been there, but it was certainly long enough to lose entirely too much blood. She told herself as she worked, removing her ever present bag of supplies from her shoulder, that she needed to be prepared to lose him at any moment. He was practically dead. He likely had already reached the point...that  moment you know, without a doubt, that you will die. She hoped he would fight it. If one had not the will to live, her help would be of little consequence.

She focused on the wound to his abdomen first, then wrapped the rest of his injuries. She needed to get him to her infirmary so she could operate more carefully. But first, bleeding had to be slowed.

Finally, she made it to the point where she could move him. "Please, don't die on me," she muttered to the man as if he could hear. She knew nothing about him. This was the first she had ever seen him...but her natural care and compassion for creatures reached out from within her to him. There was no way she could ever not do her best to save someone, even in so dire a condition.

After many an hour, bringing him to Everslade, tending his wounds with more precision and a more helpful array of supplies and checking to see if he had made it that far, Ashwyneth finally sat in a chair beside his bed.

"You are safe. Rest. It is within your will to do what it takes now to survive. I know you can," she said softly, touching his forehead with a cool cloth.

This would be the first night in a long time she had to stay awake with a patient all night. Though she would wish such injury on no one...it was good to once again feel her purpose arising.