<div class="floatleft">(https://static.wixstatic.com/media/991d95_6c974e23fa7e44ecb43d0d28de6e2cfc~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_876,h_701,al_c,q_90,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01/991d95_6c974e23fa7e44ecb43d0d28de6e2cfc~mv2.webp)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rachel Reade<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Able seaman<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Esperanza / At Sea<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date:</strong>Day 1 | Afternoon<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Arvad, Marisol, Open<br/><strong>Mentions:</strong><br/><strong>Content:</strong>Tending the wounded<br/><hr/><br/>Wasn't his skin or his teeth, it was the fact that he was quiet as a church mouse.   He'd make a damned good spy.   And yes, he was good looking.    Just her luck, caught between two good looking men, on a boat, heading to who knew where in search of who knows what.   "Hope its bloody worth it."   She was tugging at Arvad's shirt to cut another strip from the bottom of, as she pulled her blade.   The poor man may well think she was out to do him harm, but really she just wanted to get a wrap on that skull of his to staunch the bleeding.<br/><br/>She looked over her shoulder once more at Marisol.    "Could you fetch the surgeon, please?   I'm not certain he should be on his feet."   Mostly because the man, on dry land, would be at risk of falling again, let alone on a rolling deck.   "What's your name?"   Either, both.   She didn't know either of them so now was as good a time as any to get acquainted.   "Wait, what do you mean, he won't fare better with the surgeon?  Is there something wrong with the man?"   That was all they needed, an incompetent with sharp implements in charge of the wounded.   "This is getting better and better."  Rachel got on the man's other side, hooking his arm over her shoulders and together, they started to make their way to the surgeon.