"Thank you." Linden didn't look at Rook as he left, but was grateful for larger flames now leaping from the fire. The cave wasn't very cold for him even with the small fire as the ground provided a small amount of heat on its own, but he knew Mavis would appreciate it being a little bit warmer than usual. While Rook was gone, he removed Mavis's shirt and pants to keep the cot reasonably dry (before anyone comes up with some sick, perverted idea, that is not the case at all, I promise) and noticed the angry purple bruise which was forming around his chest, exposing the broken rib. "My God..." He murmured to himself, feeling another wave of both pity for Mavis, and anger at the bandits. Whoever did this was obviously a disturbed individual. Mavis's wounds, in his opinion, bordered on torture... at the very least a sadistic form of forced submission.
He tucked the blanket back around Mavis's thin frame, unable to look anymore. The rib, in addition to angering him, made him wish that he had paid more attention during the few lessons the guards had been given on basic medical procedures. He was sure they had mentioned something about broken bones, but it was so long ago that he didn't remember enough to even begin treating it. After making a mental note to mention it to Rook once he got back, he turned his attention to preparing the gash on Mavis's forehead for the bandage. He plucked out as much hair and debris as he could with his fingers, then kicked himself inwardly for not asking Rook to bring a small pail of water to wash the wound out with. It needed to be clean before a bandage was put on, or an infection would surely fester under the concealing dressing.
