we're always running scared but holding knives
Alright, on the ground then. Rising to her feet and moving around the wendigo as if this is merely a small change in circumstances, Isla readjusts the machinery until it isn't quite so stretched and dragged across the room, though it still looks a mess compared to the orderly way she'd arranged it. Shame on Remi for rudely waking up the way he did and all that.
"Alive," she repeats softly, stepping back over to Remi and checking his vitals on the monitors before kneeling beside him to check he hasn't damaged himself anew. All of this does involve touching, but compared to how she might have been once upon a time, Isla is not shy or hesitant about it.
"When you triggered the device for the shackles you were wearing, the silver that flooded your bloodstream should have killed you, it's true," she says, carefully not looking at Remi's face as she explains. "But the truth is, very little of it reached your heart. The number of injuries you sustained meant that most of it was carried away with bloodloss."
In short, a helluva lot of pain and very little death to show for it. "Sorry," she adds, even though she doesn't know why.
"Alive," she repeats softly, stepping back over to Remi and checking his vitals on the monitors before kneeling beside him to check he hasn't damaged himself anew. All of this does involve touching, but compared to how she might have been once upon a time, Isla is not shy or hesitant about it.
"When you triggered the device for the shackles you were wearing, the silver that flooded your bloodstream should have killed you, it's true," she says, carefully not looking at Remi's face as she explains. "But the truth is, very little of it reached your heart. The number of injuries you sustained meant that most of it was carried away with bloodloss."
In short, a helluva lot of pain and very little death to show for it. "Sorry," she adds, even though she doesn't know why.
Isla
