He knelt down on a knee to align himself better with the wound just at her hip, and made sure she kept her hand on his shoulder to steady herself there. He frowned as she took away her hand, seeing where the smattering of pellets had torn her skin and embedded themselves. He didn’t think he would have flinched so if it had happened to him, but in reverse he was all too conscious that not only was she wounded, he had been the one to do it. So even if he felt a little woozy and uncomfortable now, he had to help her. (The alternative was carrying her back to the house and explaining this to the mediwizard on call, which was also mortifying.) Besides – he drew in a shaky breath to calm himself – he could do this.
“I’ve never used it on a –” person, he had been going to protest, but if he just thought of it in a non-medical sense, like a delicate operation to remove some valuable object from a precarious position, what would be so different about it? “But yes, I – I know it,” he assured her, fumbling for his wand. As he did so, he heard her last remark – and whether out of relief that she was lucid enough to make quips, or that he had finally met the redheaded naiad again – Endymion couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The concern was not quite disguised in it, but chuckling had had the unexpected side-effect of settling his nerves.
It would be fine. “Well, I didn’t expect you to be carrying anything of worth all the way out here,” he returned teasingly, half-concentrating on surveying the wounds and half-trying to keep her distracted from the pain. He steeled himself and cast the spell on the first piece of pellet he could see lodged in. His brow furrowed as he watched it slowly taking effect, something coming out. “I was actually after a deer,” he explained absent-mindedly, but he shot a sudden glance upwards at her face as it dawned on him. He’d thought there had been no explanation for his impossibly bad shot, but: “...you were the deer?” Focus, Endymion! Much as the confusion and curiosity was eating at him, he paused to cast the spell again with renewed concentration.
“I’ve never used it on a –” person, he had been going to protest, but if he just thought of it in a non-medical sense, like a delicate operation to remove some valuable object from a precarious position, what would be so different about it? “But yes, I – I know it,” he assured her, fumbling for his wand. As he did so, he heard her last remark – and whether out of relief that she was lucid enough to make quips, or that he had finally met the redheaded naiad again – Endymion couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The concern was not quite disguised in it, but chuckling had had the unexpected side-effect of settling his nerves.
It would be fine. “Well, I didn’t expect you to be carrying anything of worth all the way out here,” he returned teasingly, half-concentrating on surveying the wounds and half-trying to keep her distracted from the pain. He steeled himself and cast the spell on the first piece of pellet he could see lodged in. His brow furrowed as he watched it slowly taking effect, something coming out. “I was actually after a deer,” he explained absent-mindedly, but he shot a sudden glance upwards at her face as it dawned on him. He’d thought there had been no explanation for his impossibly bad shot, but: “...you were the deer?” Focus, Endymion! Much as the confusion and curiosity was eating at him, he paused to cast the spell again with renewed concentration.
