Sentence The Twohundredandthirteenth
Bernie – that is, She Bear – started, as The Hunter, Thomas, laid his had on her shoulder; she was kneeling in what she thought of as the Sick Bay with the two newcomers: Tavish, who was now conscious, but still recovering from a gunshot wound – two actually, with an entry to the right of his sternum and the exit just to the left of his shoulder blade, right at the spot he couldn't reach with his hands, the acnestis; Bernie wasn't a Doctor, not even a Nurse, so she didn't know what internal damage there may have been, but as both wounds had been stitched up and dressed, she presumed that any necessary surgery must have been completed and he was over the worst of it, though she had no idea how long his recovery might be, without any medication here, not even painkillers, though Thomas had told her that he believed there were some plants around the Hills in which their network of caves ran, that might be useful, though he was no apothecary himself; she looked up at the face of her only friend here, a Mediaeval minor landowner who was destined to find fame – though largely posthumous – as a poet and prophet, a recondite man, a scholar, mocked by some for his claim to have spent ten years in Fairyland and giving rise to the dismissive saying, 'He's Away with the Fairies' - as most of his prophecies would only be revealed to be correct many centuries after his death; now he looked into Bernie's eyes and spoke softly, so as not to disturb her patients: “there is another, a young woman, someone has tried to garrotte her, it is a miracle she still breathes and lives, though faintly,” and Bernie rose and followed Thomas through the network of tunnels, which must have been formed as lave cooled following the last, most violent eruption, that had pushed the surrounding rim of the volcano into a small group of three hills, all that remained, being made of harder rock than the others which had once stood but been weathered away over the millennia before Humans came to walk and camp on their sides and tops; and when they reached the big Cavern, and saw, she took an involuntary ingurgitation, gulping with the sudden shock, then she ran to the girl, or woman, she had instantly recognised, a sudden williwaw gusting through the Cavern with a chilling
drop in temperature: “she's Tammy, she's my, my, er, my best friend,” she had almost said Lover, but knew not how Thomas would interpret that!
Bernie – that is, She Bear – started, as The Hunter, Thomas, laid his had on her shoulder; she was kneeling in what she thought of as the Sick Bay with the two newcomers: Tavish, who was now conscious, but still recovering from a gunshot wound – two actually, with an entry to the right of his sternum and the exit just to the left of his shoulder blade, right at the spot he couldn't reach with his hands, the acnestis; Bernie wasn't a Doctor, not even a Nurse, so she didn't know what internal damage there may have been, but as both wounds had been stitched up and dressed, she presumed that any necessary surgery must have been completed and he was over the worst of it, though she had no idea how long his recovery might be, without any medication here, not even painkillers, though Thomas had told her that he believed there were some plants around the Hills in which their network of caves ran, that might be useful, though he was no apothecary himself; she looked up at the face of her only friend here, a Mediaeval minor landowner who was destined to find fame – though largely posthumous – as a poet and prophet, a recondite man, a scholar, mocked by some for his claim to have spent ten years in Fairyland and giving rise to the dismissive saying, 'He's Away with the Fairies' - as most of his prophecies would only be revealed to be correct many centuries after his death; now he looked into Bernie's eyes and spoke softly, so as not to disturb her patients: “there is another, a young woman, someone has tried to garrotte her, it is a miracle she still breathes and lives, though faintly,” and Bernie rose and followed Thomas through the network of tunnels, which must have been formed as lave cooled following the last, most violent eruption, that had pushed the surrounding rim of the volcano into a small group of three hills, all that remained, being made of harder rock than the others which had once stood but been weathered away over the millennia before Humans came to walk and camp on their sides and tops; and when they reached the big Cavern, and saw, she took an involuntary ingurgitation, gulping with the sudden shock, then she ran to the girl, or woman, she had instantly recognised, a sudden williwaw gusting through the Cavern with a chilling
drop in temperature: “she's Tammy, she's my, my, er, my best friend,” she had almost said Lover, but knew not how Thomas would interpret that!
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