Written from the LFWS Challenge.
As always, many thanks to Jayne Perry and Ferryman for the Beta-ing duties. All remainding mistook and spleling missteaks is mine! LOL
Away from Home
They arrived just before dusk, one in leather, leaning heavily against his companion, the other in the uniform of the Lanteans.
The shorter of the two did all the talking, babbling away as if afraid that if he paused to draw breath she might actually manage to get a word in edgeways.
Some of his words were strange and she had no understanding of them. But from his fast spoken words, she was able to understand that his companion had fallen foul of the Kallenshov, a foul beast that roamed the woods.
She gestured them in, pointing to a simple bed nestled in the corner. The man staggered towards the bed with his heavy burden, lowering him gently. She pushed him aside, pulling at the bandages, looking at the wounds beneath.
The wounds were well cared for, clean and tightly bound.
"You have done well," she said.
He looked at her in surprise. "Do you think so? Because I only had the field med kit in my pack, and it's not like Tarzan here carries anything useful, only knives and guns. Just because ...." and he was off talking again.
She squeezed his shoulder and smiled gently at him. Her eldest had been just the same, would talk as if words were to be outlawed when he was worried or frightened.
"It was too far to the gate," he said quietly. "I couldn't risk it. I should go for help," he finished uncertainly.
"It is too dangerous to wander the woods at the best of time," she looked across at his companion as if to make her point. "You will not get far in the dark."
"But he needs help. Medical attention. I have to contact my people," he said in near desperation.
She pulled a chair across from the table and set it next to the bed. "You have tended him well. His wounds are clean, the bandages clean and tight. He will last the night," she said with a smile. "Come sit, I will make us some Eranite tea."
She moved to the fire, pulling the pot of boiling water from the flame. She heard the man sit down in the chair, scuffing it across the floor as he moved it closer to the bed. She heard him start to talk again. She smiled at the man's tone, berating one moment, full of concern the next. They were odd companions, one obviously a warrior and hunter, the other, well; she wasn't certain what he was.
She looked up suddenly at the low rumble of the injured man's voice.
"McKay?"
"Ronon? Oh, thank god! I ..."
"I'm okay." She noted that it wasn't a question, but a reassurance for the other man, McKay.
"Okay! You were mauled by some feathered tiger thing, there was blood ..." McKay trailed off as Ronon gripped his arm.
"Thanks."
She smiled as she turned back to making the tea, odd companions to be sure, but good friends nonetheless.