we're always running scared but holding knives
Isla has at least done her best to make sure the answers to a lot of those questions are positive.
Remi is hooked up to an IV drip of good old O-Negative laced with some of the doctor's finest wendigo-specific concoctions, aimed to both satiate his near-constant hunger (or close enough, anyway) and to replenish the massive amount of blood lost in the nuckelavee hunt. She's monitoring his temperature too - and thanks to him having been tragically subject to continuous experimentation, she's got a good idea of what's comfortable - and the low dose of sedative is paired with a potent painkiller.
He might not notice it at first, or for a while depending on the speed of his return to consciousness, but he's neither shackled nor tethered to the hospital bed. There's also no one else around, and while the door is locked, it's from the inside, the idea being that this room is not intended to keep Remi in, but rather to keep everyone else out.
Noting a small spike in his heartrate and glancing across to the bed, Isla crosses the room to carefully adjust his pillows and check him over. The wendigo, thankfully, has had most of his breaks set correctly now, and so his arms and legs need only the protection of some support bandages. That isn't to say he looks good though - sorry, buddy.
"Good morning, Remi." Isla's voice is soft as she speaks from somewhere overhead, the doctor drawing back once she's satisfied with her preliminary checks. "You may feel groggy and confused - you've been unconscious for some time, so take it slow. Can you let me know if you can hear me?"
Remi is hooked up to an IV drip of good old O-Negative laced with some of the doctor's finest wendigo-specific concoctions, aimed to both satiate his near-constant hunger (or close enough, anyway) and to replenish the massive amount of blood lost in the nuckelavee hunt. She's monitoring his temperature too - and thanks to him having been tragically subject to continuous experimentation, she's got a good idea of what's comfortable - and the low dose of sedative is paired with a potent painkiller.
He might not notice it at first, or for a while depending on the speed of his return to consciousness, but he's neither shackled nor tethered to the hospital bed. There's also no one else around, and while the door is locked, it's from the inside, the idea being that this room is not intended to keep Remi in, but rather to keep everyone else out.
Noting a small spike in his heartrate and glancing across to the bed, Isla crosses the room to carefully adjust his pillows and check him over. The wendigo, thankfully, has had most of his breaks set correctly now, and so his arms and legs need only the protection of some support bandages. That isn't to say he looks good though - sorry, buddy.
"Good morning, Remi." Isla's voice is soft as she speaks from somewhere overhead, the doctor drawing back once she's satisfied with her preliminary checks. "You may feel groggy and confused - you've been unconscious for some time, so take it slow. Can you let me know if you can hear me?"
Isla
