Lyra rummages around in her pack, pulling out a canteen of clean water and a rag. Dampening the fabric, she reaches out to begin gently dabbing at the blood. It comes away easily enough, for the most part, revealing a cut that Lyra suspects could use stitches, but that she might be able to get away with taping instead - at least until Jack can get back to civilization, where some healer he trusts might be able to finish the job.
"I'm an excellent seamstress," Lyra says, trying for levity as she finishes cleaning the wound. In truth, she's passable - on people, her job is to get them stable enough for transportation back to a real healer (hence her healing ring), and on clothes, she can mend rips and hem pants, but that's about as far as her skillset goes. "No practice necessary, though. I think I can patch you up with these." And she pulls out a set of butterfly bandages, selecting a couple of the right size. "You might want to see someone when you get back to civilization, though - I don't have anything to sterilize the wound out here, and you don't want it infected."
"I'm an excellent seamstress," Lyra says, trying for levity as she finishes cleaning the wound. In truth, she's passable - on people, her job is to get them stable enough for transportation back to a real healer (hence her healing ring), and on clothes, she can mend rips and hem pants, but that's about as far as her skillset goes. "No practice necessary, though. I think I can patch you up with these." And she pulls out a set of butterfly bandages, selecting a couple of the right size. "You might want to see someone when you get back to civilization, though - I don't have anything to sterilize the wound out here, and you don't want it infected."
Lyra Abrams
