[ and there he goes. sam pulls his hand gently back away from geralt's back, realizing a moment too late exactly what it is he did and finding he doesn't, really, regret it. he'd meant to use the magic, yes, but hadn't realized to what extent it would be needed. geralt slumps, passing out where he'd been keeping himself up, and sam immediately is shifting to help pull him back to the couch - assisting jaskier where he pushes. ]
I think he took as it as dangerously internal. Broken ribs won't kill you, unless they puncture a lung. But they hurt like a bitch. [ sam says it in a calming, almost instructory manner. he doesn't mean to sound like he's assuming jaskier has never had a broken rib before, but his training kicks in and he goes with it anyway, turning his attention back to the mess of geralt's back.
when the open bottle is offered to him, sam looks up - one brow lifted, curious, before seeing the bottle and seeing jaskier offering it to him and, without even a second thought, he takes it. pours it along the worst of the gash - assuming how he's supposed to use it, what it's supposed to do. ] And it helps, even if he's out. Bodies remember pain better than brains do, sometimes. [ now sam just seems to be prattling, talking about easy, simple training tidbits as his hands move about his supplies, while he gets the rest of the sutures out and threads a new needle, settles his stomach and his breathing before he starts to stitch him back up again. it's with both his hands holding the two sides of geralt's back together that jaskier asks about the rib, and sam looks up briefly to him. just a glance. ]
What? [ broken rib...oh. right. sam gestures the best he can, pointing with his elbow to whatever side geralt had been keeping too much weight off of. ] There, down near the bottom, I think. Might be more than one. It's hard to tell when there's so much going on. [ he means geralt's wounds, the damage he's taken. he glances over to jaskier just to check to make sure he's alright - one lifted brow, a silent you good? - before he goes back to the stitches. ]
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I think he took as it as dangerously internal. Broken ribs won't kill you, unless they puncture a lung. But they hurt like a bitch. [ sam says it in a calming, almost instructory manner. he doesn't mean to sound like he's assuming jaskier has never had a broken rib before, but his training kicks in and he goes with it anyway, turning his attention back to the mess of geralt's back.
when the open bottle is offered to him, sam looks up - one brow lifted, curious, before seeing the bottle and seeing jaskier offering it to him and, without even a second thought, he takes it. pours it along the worst of the gash - assuming how he's supposed to use it, what it's supposed to do. ] And it helps, even if he's out. Bodies remember pain better than brains do, sometimes. [ now sam just seems to be prattling, talking about easy, simple training tidbits as his hands move about his supplies, while he gets the rest of the sutures out and threads a new needle, settles his stomach and his breathing before he starts to stitch him back up again. it's with both his hands holding the two sides of geralt's back together that jaskier asks about the rib, and sam looks up briefly to him. just a glance. ]
What? [ broken rib...oh. right. sam gestures the best he can, pointing with his elbow to whatever side geralt had been keeping too much weight off of. ] There, down near the bottom, I think. Might be more than one. It's hard to tell when there's so much going on. [ he means geralt's wounds, the damage he's taken. he glances over to jaskier just to check to make sure he's alright - one lifted brow, a silent you good? - before he goes back to the stitches. ]