If only a person could be born with another pair of hands.
Kiara darted from cot to cot, checking this dressing or adjusting this splint. There never really was a lack of things to do in the infirmary, but the strange appearance of the Fae had nearly filled the tent.
Not that tending to the wounded was an undesirable task; it had more valor to it than battle itself, and required just as much skill and precision. In a way it was strange what her role had become, healing and hurting at the same time, simply on different fronts. That was what the pursuit of survival did, created rifts between the very seams of morality and judgement.
But this, this was right. To stop suffering and to ease the constant pain for some was an honor. The new arrival, Dreda, was seemingly born for the task.
She had already taught Kiara quite a bit about different poultices and methods of bandaging, many of which proved to be very effective. Dreda also spoke of various other herbs that had healing properties, and others with mystical connections to the spirit world.
Kiara had been a very practical young woman with no tolerance for 'faery tales', but after what had started to happen the entire thought of reality and fantasy being separate was somewhat difficult to fathom. Dreda had an honest air to her anyways, and the fact that she had been captured by the Fae had likely contributed to her knowledge.
What had happened, in all honesty? Even then, standing in a humid tent with sweat dripping down her cheek and making a mental check of the supplies that would be needed very soon, Kiara had a certain uncertainty about the entire situation. It all seemed out of one of the yarns that a mother would spin to scare her children into doing their chores on a rainy evening.
All that was for sure was that the Hawks were in no way alone. No matter how many of them there were, no matter how strong, another kind of beast entirely, one she hadn't had the chance to witness quite yet, was lurking about in the woods.
Being afraid was not an option, naturally. Kiara, in being a few years senior to the Hawks that were the core of the group, had become somewhat of a 'matronly' figure. Yes, she did bother them about not moving certain wounded limbs or doing particular stretches for sore joints, and had maybe even nagged them about being careful around sharp objects (that was once, only once) but a part of her was still very much vulnerable, very much afraid of what went bump in the night.
The only cure was to stay awake and that was no good. Sleep did much to heal damaged tissue and eased the various nervous fatigues-
The Hawk felt her thoughts jerking to a halt and looked up with her mouth hanging open akin somewhat to the sight of a hound on a hot day, only to note one of the younger volunteers holding out a glass of water.
"Uh..." she muttered, trying to compose herself without staring at the object of the offer too much, "Give it to..uh...the third cot on the right. And tell her to swallow slowly or she'll end up losing what little food I managed to get into her."
The girl holding the water nodded and walked off, unaware of how Kiara watched the glass intently.
The heat was doing strange things to her mind.
Kiara swallowed down what little fluid was in her mouth and started to jot something down in the little notebook she always kept in her pocket, closing it when Dreda approached.
"Yes?" the lead of the infirmary managed, voice hoarse.
"Norida had a very nice idea, actually, to have a few festivities and try and boost the morale around here. What do you think?"
"That sounds great," Kiara nodded, "I think I could get things in order here and lend a hand, perhaps. We'll see."
Dreda smiled and walked off to whatever tasks she had remaining, giving Kiara a moment to catch her breath before heading to the other side of the tent to start another round of distributing ointments.
She was going to smell of herbs for weeks.