Bobby
She said she was ready but he wasn't, not entirely anyway. Dressing a wound like that wasn't going to be an easy thing, and he knew she was going to scream and cry and curse his name... Had he given it. He could handle it from grown men basically on their death beds where they weren't particularly polite. From a woman, this was going to be a first and he couldn't handle it when women cried in front of him. He became even more stern and awkward because he just wanted it to stop. He sat there for a little while before he inhaled sharply then breathed out the word, "Okay." 

It was easier to just keep her by the fire. He moved her back a little so she wasn't quite so close, but she was still warm. He couldn't do much about her clothes just then, but he did boil water and found a cloth so she could wipe the blood off herself before be patched her up. He didn't make any eye contact with her at that point as he stomped around, not because he was angry but he was just a giant, and let her direct him towards any salves that she had. He usually traveled with a small kit, but he thought this was just going to be a quick ride so he didn't bother bringing one. He always traveled with two things though, and he'd be using them tonight. They were small enough to keep in the small pocket on his trousers, a needle and thread.

He sat facing the fire as she wiped most of the blood from herself, but she was weak and taking forever. The water was probably freezing and she still hadn't discovered the swatch of crimson above her eyebrow. He let her work on her own for a few more minutes before he decided stalling wasn't going to make anything better. He put his hand at the back of her knee again then took the extra cloth that was just sitting in the bowl to clean the area where the pitchfork went in. He knew talking would make it easier because he could feel her eyes burning holes in his face, so he finally looked at her again. Talking would have been easier, but he didn't. He just finished wiping the rest of the area away then rubbed the salve on to hopefully numb her a little before he stitched closed the wound with the needle he held over the fire for a few seconds and the thick black thread. 

It was an awful process, but it was life saving and it had to be done. She'd certainly walk again, but not easily for the next few days. 

When the job was done Col tossed the needle into the bowl of water then laid on his back on the floor looking up at the ceiling. He'd tuned out any reaction she had, any scream, any whimper, and tears. It would have distracted him, and if he was going to hurt her he was at least going to make a decent stitch while doing it. He rolled his head to look over at her, "Do you have any alcohol? Not for me. For you. If anything, the right amount will put you to sleep."
Frankie
Amaryllis quietly cleaned the wound when Col gave her the cloth. The water was icy cold, but it honestly felt good and soothing against the raging pain. The skin surrounding the wound was red and felt hot to the touch, so the cool water was quite soothing. It helped settle the throbbing in her leg as well, save for when she occasionally bumped the main the gaping gash and she'd grimace. Still, she knew the wound needed to be cleaned, so she quietly worked on it anyway. 
It was rather uncomfortable though. A part of her wanted to talk, as she knew it would help settle her fears, but she also felt as if he wouldn't like that. Admittedly, if she died from this, it would be better if he didn't know her well. The less they knew about each other, the lesson human she would seem to him, and so if she died, he wouldn't feel as bad. Well, if he felt bad at all, though the fact that he was caring for her at the moment told her that he was a good, caring man and would probably feel bad if she died. Maybe he'd at least bury her? She supposed that was a perk. Any other way, she'd have probably been left for weeks and would have rotted, without a proper burial. 
She shook her head a little, trying to push those thoughts of the macabre from her mind. Her mind had settled that her death was imminent, and it was taking to her a very dark place; a place that she didn't want to stay in.

All thoughts fled her mind, however, as Col began to work on her leg. She knew she had to stay still and not move her leg, but it was so hard as the needle and thread passed through her flesh, gradually stitching the gaping wound shut. It burned though, even with the salve to numb the worst of the pain. Hot tears streaked down the young woman's face, and despite her best attempts to stop it, screams managed to escape from her. She couldn't help it... She cursed, she screamed, she cried... But despite it all, she did not move her leg. Somehow, she managed to stay still, though her fingernails left little red half-moons in the palms of her hand. 
The moment he was done and released her leg, the young woman collapsed and sobbed. Her face had somehow taken on an even paler hue. She was clearly close to passing out, but slowly her body settled itself into an equilibrium. It was, of course, a precarious equilibrium, but an equilibrium nonetheless. "Chest at the foot of the bed" She whispered. "Green bottle."
James
Her nap didn't last long and it pissed off. The sheep that had been too frightened to run off into the winter storm were too terrified by Cecilia to make a single noise. The horse though.. It was like the large animal was doing it on purpose. Every few minutes after Cecilia would close her eyes, the horse would stomp its hoofs or make a noise out of habit like the damn snorting. Even SHE wasn't as annoying in her horse form, that she thought. Many though would claim that as a lie. 
Standing up with an agitated growl, Cecilia decided that it was time the horse left. Shifting into her human form, the cool wind nipped at her skin from the broken down barn door as she no longer had fur coat to protect her. This added to her annoyance. Cecilia walked towards the horse with caution while her hands were raised in front of her face. She focused on watching the ears. Every time they twitched backwards, Cecilia would pause in her step until they faced towards her again. 
She managed to eventually reach the post the reigns were tethered to and began undoing the knots.
As she began to walk away, Cecilia furiously rubbed her hands up and down her arms as her bare skin started to freeze from the winter air. After she was far enough to her liking, she shifted into her wolf form, instantly relieving her of the winter air. 
The horse was startled the moment it heard her shift and stared wide eyes at the large wolf petrified. Lowering her body into a threatening stance, Cecilia then ran towards the horse with a menacing snarl and within a split second, the large animal raced out into the night.
Bobby
Col sat up then walked over to the chest at the foot of her bed to retrieve the bottle. He sat it on the table next to her bed then walked back out to her, "Moving you is also going to hurt." He gave her a few seconds, but while the pain was still there he figured he might as well just move her now. He picked her up off the floor to walk her over to her bed then laid her down gently. "That should be it for tonight," He said with an exhausted sigh before he opened the bottle for her and handed it to her. If he was her he would have drank it all, but she didn't look like she could handle a whole bottle of spirits on her own. He walked back to the end of her bed taking a seat on the chest that he retrieved the bottle from. 

Just by looking around the house he could tell it was recently emptied. There were still a pair of Men's boots in the corner of the room. There's no way she lived there by herself for very long. He assumed it was the recent plague epidemic that had hit the North pretty bad just before the snow came. It was slowing down with the cold weather, but a lot of people had lost their lives during the thaw. It left a lot of young women living alone until they found someone to take them in or met much worse fates than the victims of the black death. "Sleep well," He said to he before he stood up to give her space. "I'll leave when the snow stops falling quite so hard if that's okay."
Frankie
Amaryllis let out a soft cry as he scooped her up and carried her to her bed, jarring her leg a little despite his attempt to be gentle with her. Really though, there was nothing anybody could do to keep her leg from hurting. As soon as she was in bed, she sank down into the blankets and the thick tick mattress, closing her eyes tightly as tears continued to slide freely down her cheeks. The general pallor of her face made it look like she was still at death's doorstep, but he had done all that he could for her at this point. Now it was just a matter of time. 
With shaking limbs, she took the bottle of spirits and took several swigs, grimacing a little at the sharp burn of the alcohol. She didn't generally drink. This had been her father's bottle of spirits. Today, however, she was in so much pain that she'd take anything to make it go a little. By the time she was done drinking, about half the bottle was gone, but that was more than enough alcohol for someone as slight and short as she. 
After finishing, she corked it and laid it on the bed, leaning it up against the wall so that she could easily grab it if she needed some pain relief later. She was silent for a while, after that, then finally said quietly, yet with a bit of difficulty, "Yes, of course. There's... There's food, in the root cellar. Under the rug." She closed her eyes, then continued. "Thank you, for your help. I don't know how to repay you, Mr..."
Bobby
He softly shook his head when she offered him her food, "No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but during the winter you'll need all you can get with an injury like that." He thought about it for a second, "I'll bring some up for you. I doubt you're going to want to chow down when you're in excruciating pain, but it'll help you build your strength." He turned to her when she thanked him again, "You're welcome, and you owe me nothing." He nodded then filled in the blank when she didn't know what to call him, "Col. You can just call me that. What should I call you?" 

He stood up to walk over to the frosted window and the snow was so intense he could hardly see out of it.
Frankie
Amaryllis gave him a soft, if weak, smile and replied, "Amaryllis. Most people call me Amary though, for short... It's nice... It's nice to be officially introduced, Col."
It was kind of him to bring up some food for her. She didn't think that she could eat anything at all right now, but she would need to later. At the moment though, the pain was so intense that it was rather nauseating. A little part of her wanted to press him to eat, but it wasn't really her business. She had made the offer and was being the best host that she could be, given the circumstances.
Bobby
Col looked back at her from the window when she said it was nice to be officially introduced, "Yes, it is." He smirked, "It's definitely the most interesting way I've ever met a woman." He'd call her by her nickname in the future, but he thought her name was lovely. He walked out of the room the next second to bring her up some food from the cellar. 

He brought her things that could sit out for a bit and wouldn't go back. A loaf of bread, some jam, and the rest of the fruit that she had down there which wasn't a lot. He brought them all over to her bed along with a jug of water an a knife. When she was all settled he made sure her fire would burn low enough for her to feel it, but not put her house in any danger of burning down. Col had many duties to perform, he couldn't imagine a ride to the village everyday being one of them, but he definitely wanted to check on her for the first few days at least. She was kind enough to let him stay, so he ventured back on the bench where he left his gloves so she could sleep or at least rest in a peaceful silence. He had a quick question though so he called out to her in the other room, he'd left the door open. "Do you have any neighbors that would help you?"
Frankie
Amaryllis took in his smirk with curiosity, her brow furrowing a little as soon as he disappeared down into the cellar. He was a bit strange to her, really. A bit brisk and matter-of-fact, yet he had these moments where a smirk would appear on his face that would warm those strong features and make him appear almost boyish. He was a handsome man, she thought idly, musing to herself mostly. A little bit of eye candy to make her life a little more bearable, and her musings about him provided a nice distraction. She spent most all her days with a flock of sheep, so to be in this close proximity to a human, particularly a rather handsome male. Just... Rather unfortunate circumstances. 
She closed her eyes and pulled a blanket around her to keep herself a bit warmer. The room was warm, thankfully, but she'd also lost a lot of blood and her body temperature was fluctuating quite a bit at the moment as her body tried to regulate everything and regain control after so much blood loss. Her musings were interrupted by Col's question, though she didn't really mind. "Not really," She replied. "Everyone basically takes care of their own around here... Not much to spare, so few do. And the ones that would have..." She swallowed hard, thinking of her family and others in her community that had been lost. "We had a bout of the plague come through. Most... Most of them are gone." 
She shifted a bit, trying to get more comfortable, but that only made the stitches pull and elicited a soft little grunt of pain from her.