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Is she dead?
I try to set her on the bed, but she softly pushes on the fur around my chest. “What?” Was I hurting her more?
“Don’t ruin…”
If I had eyebrows, they would be pulling together.
“The bed…” She gasps.
I stare down at the tiny human, who is ruining my shirt… She cares about the blood on my bed? How should I tell her that I’ve come home from the ceremonies or hunting and pass out in the bed covered in more blood than she’s ever seen? “Little mouse,” I growl, ignoring her and trying to set her on the bed, but her hands begin pushing on my chest again. She squirms in my arms.
I stare down at her. This girl is probably fifty pounds soaking wet. Her body and height is tiny compared to others. Her deep brown skin is pale and clammy, and her breathing is staggered. But the beautiful girl is so fucking stubborn.
She needs help.
I grab one of the huge comforters and throw it on the floor. From there, I grab pillows and set her down on the ground. She lets me this time. I pull the discarded bags to me, rummaging through to find what I need. With the new first aid kit, I start peeling back the blood-soaked bandages. When she winces, I freeze and watch her face.
Her eyes are closed, but her jaw is tight.
After a few deep breaths from her, I move on. The wound looks ten times worse and looks like it’s starting to infect. I take my time cleaning her wound, every time she reacts badly, I stop for a moment.
“I have to stitch the wound closed,” I mutter.
“You don’t have to!” She says, eyes widening as much as they can.
I stare down at her. “I got medicine for you.” I rampage through the bag again, pulling out pills and water for her.
Slowly, she tries to sit up because when she doesn’t succeed, I wrap my arm around her and help her sit up. She takes the pills into her mouth and sips the water bottle that I help tilt for her.
“I can’t wait for them to kick in,” I say softly as I start grabbing the curved needle and the wire thread.
Her dark eyes widen. “No.”
“I need to, so it doesn’t get infected.
She sniffs. Her brown eyes are red from crying.
“Close your eyes.”
She looks up at me. She looks like she’s processing or thinking about what I said in her head before laying back down and then closing her eyes.
I angle my body; she can’t see what I’m doing. Her flesh is hot and very easy to go into. Her cries ring around the room as I continue on. Then her tiny hand wraps around my bicep, squeezing the fur. It didn’t hurt me and if it helps with her pain. I’ll let her do it. By the time I’m done, her body is curled around my back, shivering like it’s cold. The bleeding on her leg has stopped and although it looks like an actual bear got to it, it will heal better now.
Her arms wrap around me, and her sniffs make me glance over. She holds me like a child holding a stuffed animal. The side of her face is buried into my fur and the thought of if I smelt good crosses my mind.
I’ve never had a human get this close to me and be so comfortable with it. She’s shivering and I reach to the bed, making her flinch and sob a bit. Slowing my movement, I pull the blanket off the bed and wrap it around her. Blood clings to her legs and clothing. I will get her clean in the morning, for now, she can rest.
