This week with Times 7:
...Mack struggled up the steep trail to his cave while trying to balance his water bucket with one hand. Hiking to the stream and back (especially back) had been a hassle from the beginning because of the steep trail, but with his injury, the trek was fast becoming an impossibility. His arm was totally useless. During the last two days, the wound on his shoulder had steadily worsened. He suspected that he had been delirious last night.
He let out a sigh as he set the bucket down just inside the cave and mustered enough strength to put the poles back into place across the entrance. After sitting and leaning back against the wall, he pulled the makeshift bandage from the wound. The inside of the dressing was again covered with pus, even though he had cleaned the hide and replaced it on the wound only a short while ago. The injury was oozing corruption, and the swelling had distended the area until the stitches were barely visible.
Mack cooked some meat on his spit and after forcing it down, rested for a while before cutting another piece of hide and boiling it until he was sure it was as sterile as he could get it. After it had cooled somewhat, he applied it to his shoulder. The rest of the day, he kept a low fire burning around his pot, applying hot compresses until well into the night. Some of the swelling seems to be going out of my arm. Maybe my body will fight off the infection after all.
After a moment, he shook his head. You’re deluding yourself. You’re in big trouble, Boy...
Have a goodun;
Roust