Kieran reached for him, and Jude gripped his arm in return in order to steady him. His hands were bloodied slightly. Shit. As he raked his gaze over Kieran, Jude tried to settle his heartbeat from this frantic thrumming, but it was hard to with his thoughts hurtling towards the picture of Kieran bleeding out on the kitchen floor. No, but he was conscious and he was standing - just about - and he had managed to apparate, that was something. He was fine, he would be fine.
Jude glanced up again when Kieran explained what had happened. He flinched involuntarily, more at the horror of the second statement than the first. It might have been different, if he had gotten out... but no, it didn't even bear thinking about. He had said almost. Almost. The word wasn't much, usually, and in this case exposed the possibility as a very narrow miss - but still, almost was an extraordinary comfort. It was enough. It made all the difference in the world.
But what Kieran had done to himself - what the creature had done to itself in the night - was as terrible as he'd said. Still trying to steady him, one hand holding on firmly, Jude knelt down to get a better look at his foot. He swallowed uncomfortably at the sight of it, quietly examining how the skin had been fused back together already but had left the damage scarred and plain, the whole ankle mangled somehow, and blood smeared everywhere.
He'd had the vague idea that some animals would do that sort of thing to free themselves from a trap out of sheer desperation, but it was another realisation altogether seeing the effects of it, the work of a wolf's maw, on a human body. How awful for him to have awoken to this. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, not sure whether he was battling the urge to recoil from it or to keep staring.
Jude got to his feet again, his brows knitted. "Here, sit, you should sit," he instructed, hastily hooking a leg of the nearest chair with his foot to drag it out towards Kieran. He could prop his foot up on the other chair: take the weight off it, that sounded like a clear first step, and elevate it to stop more bleeding. He ought to clean it up a bit, Jude thought. As well as he could. He wracked his brains for how to go about that, sure that they had some medical supplies in one of these kitchen cupboards. His flatmate was the healer though, obviously. That at least made more sense about why Kieran had come here, anyway; although Jude's flatmate didn't know, and what was more, he wasn't home, and Kieran might also have gone to Finn's, though maybe Finn didn't know either. Taking him to the hospital was clearly out of the question, so Jude let out a breath to steel himself. "It's just me at home but I - I'll do what I can -"
Jude glanced up again when Kieran explained what had happened. He flinched involuntarily, more at the horror of the second statement than the first. It might have been different, if he had gotten out... but no, it didn't even bear thinking about. He had said almost. Almost. The word wasn't much, usually, and in this case exposed the possibility as a very narrow miss - but still, almost was an extraordinary comfort. It was enough. It made all the difference in the world.
But what Kieran had done to himself - what the creature had done to itself in the night - was as terrible as he'd said. Still trying to steady him, one hand holding on firmly, Jude knelt down to get a better look at his foot. He swallowed uncomfortably at the sight of it, quietly examining how the skin had been fused back together already but had left the damage scarred and plain, the whole ankle mangled somehow, and blood smeared everywhere.
He'd had the vague idea that some animals would do that sort of thing to free themselves from a trap out of sheer desperation, but it was another realisation altogether seeing the effects of it, the work of a wolf's maw, on a human body. How awful for him to have awoken to this. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, not sure whether he was battling the urge to recoil from it or to keep staring.
Jude got to his feet again, his brows knitted. "Here, sit, you should sit," he instructed, hastily hooking a leg of the nearest chair with his foot to drag it out towards Kieran. He could prop his foot up on the other chair: take the weight off it, that sounded like a clear first step, and elevate it to stop more bleeding. He ought to clean it up a bit, Jude thought. As well as he could. He wracked his brains for how to go about that, sure that they had some medical supplies in one of these kitchen cupboards. His flatmate was the healer though, obviously. That at least made more sense about why Kieran had come here, anyway; although Jude's flatmate didn't know, and what was more, he wasn't home, and Kieran might also have gone to Finn's, though maybe Finn didn't know either. Taking him to the hospital was clearly out of the question, so Jude let out a breath to steel himself. "It's just me at home but I - I'll do what I can -"
