Valerian found himself holding his breath, wondering whether Greengrass would listen to his instructions or ask questions. Fortunately he chose the former, sparing Valerian the need to explain himself in what would undoubtedly turn out to be a string of far-fetched half-truths made even less believable by the pain he was experiencing. Even more fortunately Greengrass was quick to find the bottle, and once it was in his hand he made quick work of it.
He'd had dittany used on him before. It was common for healers to allow themselves to feel the effects of specific remedies to help themselves better understand what their patients were feeling, and dittany was frequently used in its diluted form to assist with rashes and flesh-eating plant wounds. However, pure dittany on bare skin—especially on such deep cuts—was excruciating, so much so that his hand began to shake with anticipation as he slowly tilted the bottle over the deepest wound on his arm. The substance hit his skin, causing it to pop and sizzle, and—much to his dismay—causing him to let out a series of high-pitched whimpers and closed-lipped groans. He dropped the bottle when it hit a particularly painful spot, but luckily it landed upright near his leg.
"You'll have to do it," he said through gritted teeth, "My body and mind aren't cooperating." Which could be said for more than just the dittany today. "Just—slowly pour it over the wounds. It heals fairly quickly, so you'll know you're doing it right, he explained, and then for good measure added, "Please."
He'd had dittany used on him before. It was common for healers to allow themselves to feel the effects of specific remedies to help themselves better understand what their patients were feeling, and dittany was frequently used in its diluted form to assist with rashes and flesh-eating plant wounds. However, pure dittany on bare skin—especially on such deep cuts—was excruciating, so much so that his hand began to shake with anticipation as he slowly tilted the bottle over the deepest wound on his arm. The substance hit his skin, causing it to pop and sizzle, and—much to his dismay—causing him to let out a series of high-pitched whimpers and closed-lipped groans. He dropped the bottle when it hit a particularly painful spot, but luckily it landed upright near his leg.
"You'll have to do it," he said through gritted teeth, "My body and mind aren't cooperating." Which could be said for more than just the dittany today. "Just—slowly pour it over the wounds. It heals fairly quickly, so you'll know you're doing it right, he explained, and then for good measure added, "Please."
