CCCLXXXII. The Surgical Precision

"Sander? How's Master Sander?!" 

"He... he still doesn't wake up... Master Egill says his condition is critical... Wolves have torn many of his inner tissues and also because of his age, his wounds do not heal as quickly as yours. I hope he regains his senses." 

Dag closed his eyes, stretching his neck on the pillow under his head, made of some flattened, blood-soaked clothes that some of the soldiers had kindly offered to heal their savior's wounds.

With more clean bandages in his hands and another bowl full of ointment, Egill returned again to Dag, this time accompanied by Karl, who placed a hand on Freydis's shoulder, asking her to move back.

Before doing so, she lowered herself towards Dag's face and kissed him gently on the cheek, stroking his blood-soaked blonde hair and then stepped back, leaving the two healers the space to perform their task.