The injured male was in bad shape. Even from where I knelt, I could see the unnatural angle of his left leg below the knee. It was a break, and a serious one. He was conscious, which was something, but his face was the color of old ash and his breathing came in shallow, rapid gasps that told me the pain was overwhelming his ability to manage it. He'd been shouting during the fight, trying to stand, and the effort had probably shifted the bone. Fool. Brave fool.
Broken. Badly. The front bone was badly fractured and displaced enough that I could see the unnatural angle even through his strange clothing. He needed the bone set and splinted immediately, or the damage would be permanent.
I looked up at the female and tried to mime what I needed to do—pulling, straightening, the pain it would cause. Her expression tightened with understanding and something thatlooked like dread. She spoke to the injured male, her tone gentle but firm, and he nodded, his face going pale.
Then she tried to stand, clearly planning to help hold him down, and I saw her injured leg give out.
I moved without thinking, catching her before she could fall. Her weight settled against me for just a heartbeat, solid and warm andrightin a way that made my bear rumble with satisfaction, before she jerked away, pushing at my chest with surprising strength.
"Easy," I said, keeping my voice low and steady. "You're hurt."
She shook her head sharply and pointed at the injured male again, then at herself, gesturing emphatically. The message was clear:Help him, not me.
I wanted to argue. Wanted to make her sit down and let me check that wound on her thigh, because I could smell the blood and it was making my bear agitated with worry. But she was looking at me with such fierce determination that I found myself nodding instead.
Later. I'll treat her later.
I called out to Miska and Fen, who came over immediately. They understood what I needed without being told having seen me set broken bones before. Miska positioned herself at the injured male's shoulders, Fen at his hips, and the female crouched by his head, gripping his hand and speaking to him in that incomprehensible language.
I met the injured male's eyes and saw understanding there. Fear, but also trust. He knew what was coming.
"Ready?" I asked, even though he couldn't understand me.
He nodded.
I gripped his leg firmly, feeling for the break, visualizing how the bones needed to realign. Then I pulled.
The injured male screamed but he held still while I worked, while I felt the bones grind and shift back into alignment with a sensation I now would recognise in my sleep.
The female was talking to him constantly, her voice urgent and soothing at the same time, her free hand stroking his hair back from his forehead. I caught the shine of tears on her cheeks, but her voice stayed steady.
Strong. So strong.
I finished the alignment and held the leg in place, breathing hard. "Done," I said. "The worst is over."
The injured male had gone limp, his face grey with shock, but he was conscious. Still breathing. The female looked at me with something that might have been gratitude, though her expression was hard to read through the tears.
I needed to splint the leg before he moved. I looked around the clearing and spotted several straight branches near the river, likely torn loose by the storm. I gestured to show what I needed, and Fen went to retrieve them while I gathered the supplies from the pouches at my belt.
The female watched everything I did with intense focus, and I found myself hyperaware of her attention. Aware of how close she was kneeling, how her scent cut through the smell of blood and river water. Aware of the way her hair fell forward to frame her face, the way her hands moved when she spoke to her companion, gentle and sure.
Fen returned with the branches, and I selected two that were straight and strong and would work as splints, each the right length to immobilize the leg from thigh to ankle. I packed them with moss for padding, positioned them carefully on either side of the injured male's leg, and began binding them in place with leather strips.
I finished securing the splint and checked my work. Solid. It would hold as long as he didn't try to walk on it. I pulled outa pouch of yarrow and willow bark ground into a powder and mixed it with a little water from my water skin. The resulting poultice smelled bitter and earthy.
The female watched as I spread it over the injured area, her nose wrinkling at the smell. Despite everything, something that looked almost like interest flickered across her face.
I glanced up and found her eyes on mine. For a moment, we just looked at each other, and I felt that pull again, stronger than before. Then someone called my name, breaking the moment.
I looked over to see Rivik gesturing me toward where he stood with the other male stranger. The female's attention followed mine, and I saw her watch Rivik with the same wary calculation she'd shown me. But there was curiosity in her expression now too. Maybe even hope.
I stood reluctantly, every instinct screaming at me not to leave her, and made my way over to Rivik. He was trying to communicate with the stranger through gestures and broken phrases, but his eyes kept drifting to the female.
He feels it too.
The realization hit me like a fist to the chest. Rivik was looking at her the same way I was. With that same desperate, inexplicable need. I suddenly understood why he’d raced into the fight, why he’d immediately gone for the shifter holding her. He’d needed to protect her too, he’d just got there before me.
"We're taking them back to camp," Rivik said quietly in our language, his tone brooking no argument. "They need shelter and healing. And they're not from any clan I've ever seen."
