Nightwind
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Chapter 8: The Painful Rescue
The sun had climbed higher, relentless and scorching. Calista lay on the slope, every inch of her body screaming. Her broken left thigh and twisted right lower leg made even the slightest movement unbearable, and the heat pressed down like a heavy, invisible weight.
The man knelt beside her, Nightwind standing quietly a few feet away, ears flicking as if to watch and protect. He spoke slowly and carefully, touching her lightly first to assess her injuries. “Leg ... both,” he said again. “Hip ... ankle ... bad.” His broken English was simple, but precise.
Calista swallowed a scream as he gently pressed along her thigh. The pain radiated through her body, making her chest and ribs ache with each pulse. She clenched her teeth and tried to stay still, but even the pressure of his fingers brought tears to her eyes.
“Need ... splint,” he said, motioning to some long, sturdy pieces of wood he carried. His hands were firm but careful as he began to improvise.
Calista watched, fear and pain rising in equal measure. Every movement he made was deliberate, but even gentle manipulation of her broken bones sent waves of agony through her body. She groaned and gasped, gripping the rough slope with her hands.
First, he worked on her left leg. He carefully slipped a splint along the side of her thigh, trying to straighten it enough to support her without causing further damage. The pressure was excruciating; she felt every splinter, every stretch of muscle and sinew, as though her bones were twisting anew. Her body shook, and she clenched her jaw against the sharp, burning pain.
“Breathe,” he said quietly. “Slow ... breathe.”
She tried, inhaling shallowly through her teeth, but each breath brought stabbing agony through her ribs and back. Her arms shook uncontrollably as she tried to stay still, even as he wrapped strips of cloth around the splint to secure it.
Then he moved to her right leg. The lower leg was twisted, the ankle useless and swollen. He gently manipulated it into a more natural alignment, every adjustment sending a white-hot flare of pain up from her toes into her knee. She screamed softly, pressing her face against the slope, tears running down her dust-streaked cheeks.
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