thoughtformed | [Voice]

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[Voice]

[It's audio only, and at first only a quick, panicked-sounding breathing and a few thudding sounds. There's a pause, then a quiet sound of pain and a low gasp. He fumbles with his phone, then speaks in a stilted, tense voice]

Can-- ngh... Fuck... Can som-someone.. help me, please. I-I've been shot.

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[He hisses and pales further, wincing but not making an attempt to move away from where she's applying pressure. He knows better than that and he isn't terribly keen to die though he could admit it's a definite possibility.

It's not easy, but he does his best to help her while she pushes his jacket and shirt back. His fingers are trembling and it isn't helpful while he's trying to deal with buttons. There are scars on his chest and stomach that look as if they are from wounds that should have killed him - most noticeably one drawn like a sash from shoulder to hip, and one cut low across his stomach - light purplish lines from old, deep wounds.

There are a few gunshot scars too, and with his shirt moved just how much blood he's lost can be seen all the more clearly]

Aah.. it's not hurting as much anymore.

[Pause]

... Th-that isn't a good thing.

[Aisling's eyes are wide with fear, her lips pressed tightly together as she concentrates on getting that bandage wrapped snugly around his ribs and up over his shoulder to help keep the thing in place. It's decent-quality bandage, but there isn't as much as she'd like... She tucks the end in firmly under several layers and helps drape his shirt and coat around him again. She'll address those scars later, when she's not on alarmed overdrive.]

You need to stay warm. And awake!

[She pinches his leg sharply for emphasis.]

We need to get you to a healer.

I'm staying awa-Ow!

[He flinches away from the sharp pinch then winces, tipping his head back and gulping down a few deep breaths. She's right, he knows that, he has to stay awake]

I.. might be able to walk.

[Her return grimace has something of an apology in it, but she is not going to stop making sure he stays conscious. If she can do something to make sure that he doesn't die, she's going to do it. But she's not going to be able to help him walk. She and her pack are too short for his height. And moving makes the wound bleed more, right? She shakes her head and hesitates, then beckons a largish wolf over from the perimeter - he's not the biggest of the pack, and his over-sized paws say that he hasn't reached his full growth yet - one of the yearlings, then?]

We need someone taller. And you need to stay warm. Lách...

[The wolf sidles nearer, wriggling in under Arthur's arm to lean his warm, furry bulk against the injury. Aisling twists her fingers anxiously.]

He'll protect you - help you keep warm, fight off any who bother you.

[The big tan fellow bares his teeth in demonstration, but generally seems alert and even-tempered. Aisling looks searchingly into Arthur's face.]

I have to find someone to help.

Mm, hello there.

[He mutters it to the wolf, shifting his arm to allow the animal to wriggle in under it. Immediately, it's a comfort, and he rests his weight just a little]

Don't be gone too long, will you? Dying isn't pleasant and I'd much rather not do it again.

[The wolf offers him an amiable doggy grin and sits steady as a rock. Aisling, in the meantime, gives Arthur a long stare. He's died before? She adds it to the mental list of things to pry out of him when he's safe and whole again. Cool fingers press against her friend's hand.]

As soon as I can. Stay strong.

[With one last, serious look of silent communication with her canine friend, Aisling whirls and vanishes down the alley, the other wolves streaming behind her.]

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