Basile looked up at him from the book, staring with a raised brow.<br/><br/>“You just want to cut them out?” he asked, skeptically. “Did you know that arrowheads are often attached with sinew? So that when you pull them out, blood softens the sinew and the head remains,” he informed. He hadn't known this. He pointed up to the part of the serpent's body where infection stemmed from.<br/><br/>“I would venture to guess that might be your issue there. Says here foreign objects don't like being trapped in the flesh. Not human, and not whatever you are apparently.” It had festered and gone putrid.<br/><br/>“Did you see the head when you took it out?”<br/><br/>The others were still attached, just broken off. The text said to make an incision going against the shaft wide enough to pull the arrow out. That went along with what he'd said would need to be done. Simple, straightforward. Or so the book made it sound. Did they account for involuntary movement? This was documentation of wound treatment in a military base, yet written entirely from a clinical perspective. The response of their patients during the procedures was not written.<br/><br/>“Well, probably best to get them out then. Says it's terribly painful to leave them. Deadly long term. Though I don't think you want to perform this kind of dissection on yourself.”<br/><br/>Basile remembered his brother's knife; sent someone out to go retrieve it from the grass. Along with a bottle of wine. For himself. Brandy as well, which he offered to the creature thinking it might ease some of his pain but it was mainly to be used as a disinfectant. Basile started from the furthest wound. It was in a tricky place, situated underneath the creature. He moved it's body over the top of one of his legs, using this to prop the scaled section up enough so that he might see more easily. He was reminded of its weight again and also of how easily it might have been able to overpower him, especially under normal circumstances. Basile wondered how it killed. Would it wrap and strangle or would it bite and wait for toxins to do the work?<br/><br/>He poured the brandy onto a swath of clean linen then wiped the area and disinfected the knife. Basile wasn't squeamish. He'd always enjoyed cleaning game after a good hunt. Not this sort of game of course, but a fat buck. The knife was sharp. It hadn't changed from the day they'd been cursed any more than Basile had. His brother had always kept it that way; perfectly maintained. He nicked the tissue of his scales, difficult to widen the initial wound but smooth after. Just flesh. Basile removed the knife, tested depth with a finger until he'd finally sliced open a path wide enough for the arrow in its entirety to be removed. Dug out with his fingers was more appropriate.