𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄
〖❝ʜᴜʀʀɪᴄᴀɴᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ❞〗
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note: this is not completely accurate and not medical grade depiction. i have done the bare minimum research to make the story flow correctly. do not try any of this at home, and call first responders if any such thing happens to you.
It was storming. The sound of billiard balls knocking together was the only thing keeping Lina semi-conscious. The lightning flashed and thunder struck, but the fire in the saloon kept a homey feeling about the place. And it didn't help that herself and Morgan Earp were in the building. The rain kept the stuffy smell of smoke at bay, and replaced it with the smell of clean freshness. A smell of new opportunities.
Months had passed since Curly Bill tried to manhandle her in public. Although at the time he hadn't put much thought into it, but the way she acted bothered her. Where was the fierce girl that her father raised all those years ago? She didn't like how she handled the situation, and was rather abashed that someone had to step in to help her. She was embarrassed that she had let Bill get that far into her head, but she hadn't spoken to him since, and that made it a little bit easier. She did her best to block that memory out entirely.
Lina was ripped out of her thoughts by the echoing boom of a gunshot. It echoed across the now sleepy town as if it were dynamite, or perhaps a cannon. The noise bounced of the buildings like a ball, distorting and twisting the noise in a manner that makes the strongest of heart a little weak in the knees. Her head snapped up and she looked at the pool table. With a shriek of pain and a string of profanities, Morgan had doubled over and was sliding down the side of the table, sinking to his knees. Lina gasped and bit back a scream, trying to think quickly, calmly, and effectively. Would he survive long enough for her to go and get her bag? More importantly, long enough for her to accomplish that and asses his wound? She deduced that he wouldn't, and rushed to his side.
She grabbed a knife and towel on her way, and dropped down onto her knees next to him. It was as if an alarm clock woke the town. People emerged from their homes bleary eyed and yawning, just to see what exactly the commotion had been. Lina wished it had been something perhaps a little more light-hearted than what was going on right now. She would have to get him onto a table.
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"Kicking Horse has been shot." the words pounded through Lina's ears. Her father's grim expression told her of the warrior's fate. He was not one to express his emotions through his features, and that slightly alarmed Lina. It must have been worse than she thought.
Stone Eyes had been the most open minded chief Lina's tribe had ever had. Keeping in line with their beliefs, Stone Eyes was a bit looser, letting arts and professions flourish. Their people loved him, and he was not only popular amongst them, but other tribes too. He was known as being very just, and understanding. He was never bold nor brash. He allowed his daughter, Hummingbird to study medicine. She learned spiritual healing along with real healing. Now, her skills would become of use.
Kicking Horse's body was donated to the Medicine Man, Two Bears and his little apprentice Hummingbird, after Two Bears failed to save him. He was not favored among his family, for having feelings for a white woman, so they did not really care exactly what happened to his corpse after his death. Sad, but useful. Two Bears insisted on their learning from their mistakes.
Upon inspecting the wound closely and removing the slug that had ultimately resulted in Kicking Horse's premature death, she observed that the bullet had hit one of his ribs. The rib was absolutely demolished, shattered to the point of no return, but the bullet's path of destruction and death stopped there. He could have been saved had they known that, and just focused on stopping the bleeding.
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Lina hoped and prayed that she was right and that was the case here. By the time she had relieved that memory, and decided on a plan of action, a small crowd had formed and Morgan's brother had burst into the saloon. She beckoned him over.
"Wyatt, I need you to help me get him on the table." Lina spoke quickly and calmly, hoping to soothe the brother as much as possible. The man's hands were trembling. "I'll take here," she moved and hooked her arms under Morgan's. "You take his legs."
"Right," was all he could manage to mutter as he did as asked.
"One, two, three." They hoisted him up onto the pool table, lying him on his back. Morgan was barely conscious by then, and Lina lightly tapped his face to arouse him. "Stay awake, and get as comfortable as possible. Don't close your eyes, don't give into the shock." She ripped her apron with no hesitation nod pressed it against Morgan's side. He winced, but made no other reaction.
"Wyatt, go and fetch Doctor Goodfellow. Don't rush him, i think i can stop the bleeding." Lina looked around in the crowd and spotted Etta, who looked as if she were on the rocky precipice of tears. "Etta, please get me my bag from my room, and that bowl full of powderpuffs by the washing basin." Lina ordered, hoping that giving something for the distressed girl to do would calm her down a bit. Etta nodded and sped off towards the stairs.
And there Lina sat, a dying man in her care, and the rolling thunder rattling around in her ears. It was oddly peaceful, and the high Lina got from the adrenaline coursed through her veins. It felt good. She felt strangely alive.
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