[He's not totally off. Claire imagines if she wasn't from the 60s she might have a slightly easier go at this, but hey, that's why there are instructions. She finds a pen with the words sedative in the description, and that's good enough. Better spare the man before he says anything ridiculous enough that she'll repeat it to him.]
You've done well, Captain. Time to rest up. [And it's a quick jab to the neck, as per the handy diagram. She'll have to smuggle some of these down, assuming they're ever allowed back to their respective cities.
Once she's sure Jim is out for the count, she begins to work. First, the foot. It's vile. She imagines if he were in the 18th century, any surgeon would just take the whole thing off. There's a lot of scraping, trying to get rid of that rot--and truth be told, if there wasn't the reassurance of magical healers on the station, she might be in a bit of a panic now. It's awful. And to think, all because of that dragon...
It's a surprise she hasn't yet heard of any refugee deaths.
Once she does what she can to make sure that foot doesn't kill him before Anders or Terra or someone else can be caught, it's the rest of him that needs cleaning up and examining. She cleans the blood from his face, checks for signs of internal bleeding because the ghost of Angus haunts her even here, and splints his fingers so he doesn't have to remind himself to mind them.
By the time he comes to, he's had his foot wrapped and a blanket draped over him. Really, it'a all just to keep him comfortable as possible. Claire's at the sink, scrubbing her hands. She's been there for some time.
She's a doctor. She's seen some nasty things. Pieces of rotting foot on her hands is up there.]
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You've done well, Captain. Time to rest up. [And it's a quick jab to the neck, as per the handy diagram. She'll have to smuggle some of these down, assuming they're ever allowed back to their respective cities.
Once she's sure Jim is out for the count, she begins to work. First, the foot. It's vile. She imagines if he were in the 18th century, any surgeon would just take the whole thing off. There's a lot of scraping, trying to get rid of that rot--and truth be told, if there wasn't the reassurance of magical healers on the station, she might be in a bit of a panic now. It's awful. And to think, all because of that dragon...
It's a surprise she hasn't yet heard of any refugee deaths.
Once she does what she can to make sure that foot doesn't kill him before Anders or Terra or someone else can be caught, it's the rest of him that needs cleaning up and examining. She cleans the blood from his face, checks for signs of internal bleeding because the ghost of Angus haunts her even here, and splints his fingers so he doesn't have to remind himself to mind them.
By the time he comes to, he's had his foot wrapped and a blanket draped over him. Really, it'a all just to keep him comfortable as possible. Claire's at the sink, scrubbing her hands. She's been there for some time.
She's a doctor. She's seen some nasty things. Pieces of rotting foot on her hands is up there.]