Helping Trudy back in, he rushed over, took out his kit, and sealed up the wounds with some efficient stitching, then swabbing the wounds, his brow tinged with nervouness, as evidenced by the sweat dripping from it, as he tried to wipe it off. Next he put some ointment and cream over the open wounds, have to semi-remove her clothes, but acting very clinical with everything, not blushing or doing anything. Doing quick fix-up of her clothes, he knew they be ripped again, but he had to try, finally he wrapped a bandage over the more severe wounds, before turning to Trudy, "Open her mouth, so I can give her some water, as with this amount of blood being lost, she will need more fluids than usual."<br/><br/>Nodding, Trudy knew how Malcolm acted, so did so without argument, lightly allowing him pour a little water down her throat.<br/><br/>As a precaution he felt her pulse, it was faint, but it was still working, that was good.<br/><br/>Breathing heavy sigh of relief, he packed up his kit, thanked Trudy and left the cage, locking the door. Once back at the table he downed the glass of his coffee, feeling out of breath and tired beyond belief.