[POV: Solenne]
The room felt smaller now.
The man's breath was ragged, his sweat-slicked face drawn tight with pain. He clutched the edges of the wooden chair as though his life depended on it.
Alde had gone to fetch supplies, leaving Solenne to assess the damage alone. She was determined to do her best. He was a man with a family, and he needed help.
She crouched beside his mangled foot. The bruising had already spread up his leg in a dark, angry bloom. His ankle was twisted at a grotesque angle, and part of the heel had collapsed beneath the skin… completely pulverized.
Solenne pressed her lips together and scribbled a message on a piece of parchment. [I can help, but it will hurt… a lot.]
She held the paper out gently, but the man only squinted at it, then frowned.
"I can't read that, miss," he grunted. "Ain't got the luxury of books in the slums, where I'm from. Just… do whatever you need ta do. Long as I walk again."
