Wolfgang restrains the feeling of immense relief at the sight of someone approaching them, barely containing it from broadcasting -- because it won't help to flood someone else with his emotions, not beyond what he needs to for survival, and there are some major ethical concerns he just. Has not had time to process. Reading people's minds, giving them his thoughts, and, awfully, forcing them to do things... it's necessary but it's not pleasant and it's not ethical.
One more thing to beg forgiveness for. Later.
And, yes, she knows what she's doing. Thank God. He had been praying for a healer and not just some random -- because if whoever it was didn't know what they were doing, he would rather not make them watch someone die. He's watching her intently, keeping the wound elevated and applying pressure to it -- that's all he can do. Well -- no. He could relieve some of the pain.
Not now, he needs to focus on this. Later, if this man survives, he can help until they get him somewhere with real painkillers.
Wolfgang is remarkably calm. He should be falling apart -- he's so neurotic and emotional in day-to-day living -- but in a real crisis, he keeps his head. He spent a year and some change training for this, prepared for the very real possibility that he'd have to watch the men and women in his unit die. But he hesitates before he takes the bottle because, no, he has no idea what it is and how it's used. He can guess topical, but... "The what?"
Dammit, he's going to have to learn magic after this, isn't he. He had been counting on pretending none of this ever happened, but it occurs to him he doesn't know anything about anything; all he does is destroy things.
no subject
One more thing to beg forgiveness for. Later.
And, yes, she knows what she's doing. Thank God. He had been praying for a healer and not just some random -- because if whoever it was didn't know what they were doing, he would rather not make them watch someone die. He's watching her intently, keeping the wound elevated and applying pressure to it -- that's all he can do. Well -- no. He could relieve some of the pain.
Not now, he needs to focus on this. Later, if this man survives, he can help until they get him somewhere with real painkillers.
Wolfgang is remarkably calm. He should be falling apart -- he's so neurotic and emotional in day-to-day living -- but in a real crisis, he keeps his head. He spent a year and some change training for this, prepared for the very real possibility that he'd have to watch the men and women in his unit die. But he hesitates before he takes the bottle because, no, he has no idea what it is and how it's used. He can guess topical, but... "The what?"
Dammit, he's going to have to learn magic after this, isn't he. He had been counting on pretending none of this ever happened, but it occurs to him he doesn't know anything about anything; all he does is destroy things.