[ Dion has seen enough injuries in the field to have a general sense of how to proceed. Unlike people, however, a chocobo can only understand so much of what he says. Not for the first time, he wishes he had Joshua's knack for mending wounds with his power, but this isn't the time to try. Dion had always been made to bend his light toward destruction and he can't risk hurting the chocobo while trying to help it.
Instead, he procures a bottle of water from his satchel and uncaps it. The wound will need to be clean first, else infection is a risk. He knows the bird isn't going to enjoy any of this process, but he must try to keep it calm. ]
I hope you are able to remain still.
[ He pours the water over the wound at a trickle, hoping to flush out anything that might have gotten caught in the wound or the blood caught in its feathers. The chocobo flinches with a startled cry, but perhaps because of the shock of the injury or the fatigue that came of bleeding from it, the bird doesn't get up.
Dion's eyes remain on the wound until the water is drained. He sets the bottle aside and presses on, patting the area gently with some of the gauze to dry it. The rest he tears away as he seats himself closer to the chocobo. ]
This will be the worst of it, so bear with me.
[ He speaks merely for the sound of it, for whatever reassurance it might give the poor bird. Then begins the process of bandaging the wound in earnest, feeling out the balance between a snug fit and a comfortable one. The wound will need to remain covered.
Dion realizes then that he'll have to plan on changing these bandages as well. If only he could just heal the poor thing, but this will have to do. ]
no subject
Instead, he procures a bottle of water from his satchel and uncaps it. The wound will need to be clean first, else infection is a risk. He knows the bird isn't going to enjoy any of this process, but he must try to keep it calm. ]
I hope you are able to remain still.
[ He pours the water over the wound at a trickle, hoping to flush out anything that might have gotten caught in the wound or the blood caught in its feathers. The chocobo flinches with a startled cry, but perhaps because of the shock of the injury or the fatigue that came of bleeding from it, the bird doesn't get up.
Dion's eyes remain on the wound until the water is drained. He sets the bottle aside and presses on, patting the area gently with some of the gauze to dry it. The rest he tears away as he seats himself closer to the chocobo. ]
This will be the worst of it, so bear with me.
[ He speaks merely for the sound of it, for whatever reassurance it might give the poor bird. Then begins the process of bandaging the wound in earnest, feeling out the balance between a snug fit and a comfortable one. The wound will need to remain covered.
Dion realizes then that he'll have to plan on changing these bandages as well. If only he could just heal the poor thing, but this will have to do. ]