Overthrown?

Doctor

As a feverish Giddian lays on the floor of the den. I rush around like a bat out of hell trying to find some supplies. Finally getting my mind in order I remember what the doctors did for Evelyn when she fell off the horse when she was six. They gave her stitches. Panic stricken with wobbly hands I manage to start a fire without burning myself. Pulling his shirt off to use as bandages I realize the damage goes more than just skin deep. Covering his sides and stomach are an array of wispy black bruises. Knowing very well quite a few of his ribs must have been broken. They float like tendrils of smoke all they way around his whole abdomen. Fading in to a dark blue then green they fade into a nasty yellow hue. Gasping in shock Giddian's eyes flutter weakly open seeing his beautiful glassy green eyes filled with pain and unshed tears pulls on the strings of my heart. Meekly sitting beside him I take his hand in mine and gently squeeze it as to let him know in here with him. Gently placing it to his side I retrieve the needle and sting from the burlap sack. Taking two clam shells with water I set them before me ready for use. Quickly I touch the needle into the orange flames of the fire to kill any germs. Steadily threading the needle I take a deep breath. Knowing that if I do not get myself under control that with the amount of blood coming from Giddian's wound he was surely going to die. Testing the flesh around the gash I get a feeling of how deep the cut might be. Gently pinching the sides together I begin to work. Knowing very well how painful the procedure must be without any antiseptic I try to go as quick as possible. Only half way through Giddian starts to tremble. The small tremble precedes to a violent shaking. As if having a seizure I gently tilt his neck up and lift his legs to make sure a sufficient amount of blood reaches his brain. Soon the seizure is over but the damage is already done. The stitches I had made are ripped open once again and even more blood is quickly flowing out. Forgetting all other issues I thread the needle quickly in and out of his flesh at an alarming rate. When the wound seems to be stitched. Taking his discarded shirt from next to me I soak a strip in the water. Ringing it out but leaving it moderately damn I begin to wipe the blood from his face. After the the white cloth was soaked pink. I pour the other clam shell in his hair. Remembering a book I once read about a pearson washing his hair in soot. I take another shell filled with grey soot from last nights fire. I lather the weird mixture in his hair. Using another three shells filled with water I dump them on till his hair runs clear. Once there were no obvious signs of blood left. I laid him in the back corner to stay warm. All night I sat at his side keeping a wet cloth over his eyes to regulate his temperature.