Mablung frowned as he crouched next to Beleg.
"Well, he's safe now, isn't he? I've been bit before and I just slept it off, it's just a paralytic, no real poison until they're going to eat you."
Beleg wasn't paying attention. He'd checked the pulse-thready-and already felt the heartbeats begin to slow. He placed both hands over the elf's chest and began to push in a steady rhythm. After a few repetitions, he stopped and checked the elf's vital signs again. He began again.
"Beleg...what's wrong?"
"What is wrong," the healer snapped "Is that when you were bitten, you were a full-grown adult who weighed probably three times what this boy here does, and by the looks of him, he's been half-starved most of his life. Right now the paralytic isn't just affecting his limbs, it's slowing his heart, probably until it stops. I'm trying to keep that from happening."
The rest of the elves from the patrol were beginning to emerge from the forest trees to find out the reason for the delay. Mablung looked at Beleg pleadingly.
"I can help," he said, "I can't stand here being useless, give me something to do." He lowered his voice, as if ashamed, "I-I can't stand it when it's a child."
"Look at what I'm doing," Beleg ordered calmly, "Can you do this? I need to get some of my supplies from camp and someone needs to keep this boy from dying while I do. "
Mablung turned a pale shade of green.
"Can't I just get your supplies? What if I hurt him?"
"Do you know what I need?" Beleg asked in acidic tones. Mablung wilted. "I didn't think so. Now place your hands like mine-so-and push. He might vomit without waking up, you'll need to roll him on his side, clear his windpipe and keep going. Push, I said, not pet. A few cracked ribs is better than dying."
The other elves were gathered around them now, the captain pushing through to see what was happening.
"Beleg," she said crisply, "Report"
"Captain, we're going to be here for some time, the boy is sick. I need to get back to camp for some supplies or he dies."
"Talyth, Aroth, you're with Beleg. You're under his orders, go."
Mablung set his jaw and refused to watch Beleg leave, he was afraid he'd lose his nerve if he saw the healer go. The ranger's nickname "the heavy hand" seemed more apt than ever as his big hands dwarfed the unconscious boy's chest. The captain began to organize a makeshift camp in the clearing, one elf starting a fire, others gathering some food and setting up a few tents. Mablung kept working, his expression became more and more grim as the boy remained still and his skin started to turn a dusky color of grey. Beads of sweat gathered on the elf's brow but he steadfastly stubbornly refused to let anyone else take over.
Faylene, the captain, finally interrupted him while he worked.
"Mablung," she said, not unkindly, "I'm pretty sure he's done for. Even if Beleg does get back soon, they don't come back once they turn that color. Let him go."
Mablung shook his head.
"Not. Letting. Him. Die. My. Watch." he said between gritted teeth.
Faylene shrugged and let him be. She was not a cruel elf by any means but she knew the longer Mablung worked, the harder it would be when they had to bury the poor boy. As if her words had summoned him, Beleg and the elves that she sent with him burst into the camp a few minutes later.
Beleg was wielding a syringe armed with a needle half as long again as his arm. The expression on his face only became grimmer when he saw the condition of the boy. He shoved Mablung aside wordlessly and pulled open the pathetic ragged shirt. Before Mablung could open his mouth or anyone could react, the healer raised the needle above the boy's heart and plunged it deep into his chest.
The boy came to life.