Thread: Out of Anguish (NurseMaxine and Traveler)

Awentia sat there a moment rocking slowly on her knees in the mud, her tiny fingers running through long brown hair of the man that now lay in her lap moaning softly and asking for help in a language she didn't understand. His hair was matted with blood and she very gently pushed the strings of it from his face. For that few moments her world had collapsed around her and now her hands and his face were all she acknowledged. His skin was pale compared to hers and most of his face was covered by hair, something she had never experienced up close seeing that none of her tribesman had any significant facial or body hair. She ran her fingers through it almost in amazement. Suddenly a cold blast of icey wind jarred her out of her mental cocoon. The village, now the remains of a battle field was cold, and winter was tightening its grip. She had to get out of there, and him with her if he was to survive. It was eerily silent. Even the birds whose songs had been ever-present in her life up to now were either gone or silent. Only the howl of the cold wind through the surrounding trees, and the moans of the man could be heard. The smell was that of gunpowder and smoke, and freshly turned earth. The man had fallen on the remains of hut, which when standing had been made of bent green tree limbs lashed together over which the hides of deer had been stretched and tied in place. He lay between two of the limbs. Looking around, the glint of a bayonet stained in blood caught her eye and she pulled it from the dead fingers which still gripped it and began to cut away at the hides, and then the leather thongs which held the tree limbs together. When she was through, both by luck and ingenuity, what remained was a very serviceable litter. She only hoped she had the strength to drag it and his weight, which was about twice her own, through the rubble that remained of the village. She cut free the rest of the hides that had made up the hut and covered the man to keep him warm, before struggling to pull the litter. Though she fell repeatedly over debris, bodies, and overturned earth, she found that with effort she could move him . She knew where she was headed as it was a familiar journey made every day by the women of the village to wash clothing, and gather water. Perhaps a half mile from the village, along a little stream was a cliff and in its side was a hollow, a shallow cave really, where she had taken refuge from the heat on many a summer day. She hoped now that it would hide them and offer protection from the cold, and the animals, especially bear, which would soon scavenge what remained of the village. As she reached the edge of the woods a bit of shiny metal caught her eye she stopped and picked it up and found it was a small pot, apparently carried there by a British soldier, who clearly no longer needed it. This made her think and she scurried around the area, which was littered by burning debris collecting hot embers in the pot. Though she knew how to kindle a fire, these would save a great deal of time and might ensure a fire was possible when it might not otherwise be. A night in this cold, even in the shelter of the cave might be too much for the man she was trying so hard to save. She secured the pot to the litter and moved on. Though the trip was arduous, she made steady progress and was at the stream just before night fall. To her great relief, she found that the cave was not only vacant, but was in a position to shelter them well from the wind. She dragged the litter inside and set about building a fire at the entrance, where the smoke could rise, but it would still offer them warmth. She washed out the pot and then dipped a pot full of clear clean water from the stream. After offering a cool drink to the man,and gently cradling his head to be sure he didn't choke, she drank her fill. She then cut away a bit of soft chamois from the hem of her dress, and dipping it in what remained of the water, she began to clean up the man and try and discover where he had been wounded. She could see little by the flickering fire-light, and finally gave up the effort in favor of rest. Laying half on her back, half on her side, she cuddled his head on her stomach and resting her head on his shoulder, fell asleep, being totally exhausted from the effort. Several times during the night she woke to the sound of his groans, and twice gave him water before continuing to cradle his head against her warm body.