<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>n/a<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 15th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Jones' Mercantile & Trade<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>a passel of kids, Albert, Ginny, Johnny, CeCe, open -<br/><hr/><br/>Ripping her skirt had not been necessary, as rough towels from the store shelves showed up while a bucket of cold water sloshed nearby.  She took a moment to dip the cloth anyway and used it on Albert's face.  Wiping away dust to reveal just how very pale he'd become, his breath was fluttery and shallow, his eyes remained closed.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=167802.msg10099692#msg10099692">Quote from: Josietta on 09-06-2014, 16:25:59</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>"What can I do fer ya missus? Need some help there with that youngin'? I can carry 'im over to a table or bed or some such if'n ya have one."</strong><br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"Are you the doctor?"  She had turned enough to take in the sight of the man.  He didn't have to say anything, she knew he was not an answered prayer.  "There's no time, he's lost too much blood for niceties.  Have you tended broken bones before?"  All the while she was talking fast, she was revealing the gore of bone and skin broken open.  Dirty skin, no doubt; if they managed to set the bone and stem the bleeding, the boy would probably still die of infection.  Jaelyn refused to entertain such thoughts.  Instead she focused on the task at hand.<br/><br/>The sight weakened her knees.  The back of a trembling and bloody hand moved to silence her sound of anguish.  A tortured "Sweet Jesus, please help us," was all she allowed herself.  There really was no time for hysterics.  The focus was to stop that from happening, stem the flow of blood because Albert deserved better than to have his life end in a puddle in Gomorra dirt.  Silas' eyes went wide when for all the emotion behind it, only those closest to her heard, "Where is that damn doctor?!"<br/><br/>She looked at the fellow who had come upon the scene and offered his help.  "He's passed out.  That, at least, is a mercy."  It was, she knew, because the hard part was coming.  "Silas, a towel, please, and rip one into strips.  Mister, you're strong.  If you pull his arm straight, then i can wrap it.  Try to get the bone straight as you can, but the bleeding is more important than the bone, I'd say."<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>