Orivy hates to ask for help, but...

[Orivy Assassin]

Orivy lay in a hammock belowdecks, breathing hard. Her deep shoulder wound from the night before had turned the makeshift bandage brown. She couldn't move the limb without a deep aching pain shooting down her leg and side.

She shifted uneasily. Beads of sweat made dark spots in her crimson coat, and her hooves were beginning to shake. With a sudden controlled burst of energy, she tossed her head back and gritted her teeth, allowing a quiet grunt - her equivalent of cursing - to escape her mouth. This wound would not just heal on its own.

'Ivy heaved herself out of the hammock and stood upright for a moment with her head down as stars exploded in her vision. Gathering herself, she took a deep breath, lifted the injured limb gingerly, and began to hop forward on three legs.

She had seen a doctor amongst the crew. But she didn't now where his quarters were - she trusted he was somewhere on the ship, and if she looked for long enough she would find him...

[LNS]

As it so happened Cutlass had been up for the better part of an hour already and was moving back and forth from the deck to his quarters like a caged animal. He wanted to be underway. Staying too long in one spot never made the doctor very happy. Than again, was he ever happy? Most would quickly say no.

Noticing Orivy nursing an injury he moved closer. Barely lifting his muzzle he pointed to the leg and gruffed.

From the looks of it, it would need stitches. Quite a few of them. There was a good possibility he would have to sew up more than mere hide.

Without bothering to say a word he made a motion that said 'if you want that fixed, follow me' and headed back to his quarters.

Not turning around, he assumed she would be there. If not oh well. He wasn't going to go chasing after some pony just to fix them up. Rummaging around he found the supplies he would need. Setting them on the table beside him, Cutlass turned ready to begin.

[Orivy Assassin]

Orivy flared her nostrils at the sight of the stallion beckoning to her. Every muscle tensed, she followed him at a heavily limping shuffle - no good making assumptions, anything could be a trap with an unfamiliar crew.

But her head was swimming at this point from blood loss, and by the time they got to the doctor's quarters, it was all she could do to remain standing.

"Orivy," she snorted. "Name!"

If someone was taking her life in his hooves, she at least wanted to know what he was called. She wasn't sentimental and didn't usually stand on ceremony, but there were some things that were personal.

[LNS]

Cutlass's head snapped part way around as she demanded his name. The stallion snorted. Answer or not? He wasn't feeling exactly agreeable. But than when was he ever?

The Captain though might be miffed if the lass refused to let him mend her because he had refused to give his name. Though the doctor seemed to fear nothing he decided for once to cooperate.

"Cutlass." Came the reply.

He didn't bother telling her to sit. It didn't matter to him if she stood, sat down or fainted. He'd fix her shoulder and do a good job of it. Who knew perhaps someday he would be in need of her help.

[Orivy Assassin]

Orivy bobbed her muzzle once, trying to stop her eyes from rolling back in her head. Cutlass didn't say anything else, but she was near-fainting, and as soon as she saw that he was prepared to help her, she gave in.

She tried to break her fall, but only succeeded in bruising her knees as she fell in front of the stallion. She hadn't been this badly wounded in years, and combined with lack of sleep and stress at being on a new ship...

'Ivy closed her eyes and fell into half-consciousness.


[[OOC: Fix 'em up, doc! ; ) She's got a pretty bad knife slice in her shoulder, in case I didn't write that anywhere.]]

[LNS]

Cutlass was less than surprised when the mare fainted. From the look of the wound, just at a glance, it was easy to tell it was a deep one. She'd lost blood, a good deal no doubt. Leaving her where she lay, Cutlass knelt on the floor beside her, needle in hoof.

The stallion grabbed a bottle off of his desk, which lucky for him was within reach. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he dumped a good portion of it straight into the wound. It fizzled and bubbled and the doctor watched to make certain it did just that as he poured more into it. At least it wasn't infected. Given a bit of time the lass would be all right. Maybe a slight limp to her walk, maybe not. Only time would tell. The cork still in his mouth he set the bottle down.

The needle threaded he set to work on sewing muscle back together. The muscle seemed easiest to him for some reason to work with, it always had. Picking up the bottle he again dumped a good amount of the liquid on Orivy's shoulder. Bubbles quickly surfaced. Again with needle in hoof he began the task of mending flesh. It was slow and tendency. The doctor let out a slow breath as he finally came to sewing her hide back over the wound. Nipping the thread off with his teeth he stood to admire his handy work. Not bad. The stitches were some of his best and some of his smallest yet. She wouldn't have a scar from his patch job at least.

Fishing around for a few moments he found the bandages he had on hand and set about wrapping her shoulder as best as was possible.

[Orivy Assassin]

Orivy winced dully at the feeling of the needle in her flesh, but she didn't move. Even when he was finished, she wasn't sure she wanted to get up yet. She lay flat on the wood, taking quiet deep breaths and watching the stars behind her eyelids.

[Orivy Assassin]

[[OOC: Movin' on out!]]

Some while later, Orivy awoke. The doctor was gone, and her shoulder throbbed dully. Her nostrils flared and her chest was thick with the scent of the planks beneath her. She craved fresh air.

One hoof, and then another pulled her up, and she stood unsteadily. One hoof, and then another in front of it, and she made her way up to the deck.

[[OOC: Continued in "Ratskull and the bad pirates"!]]