Damien, Sergeant Storm, Dwane, and Camo were greeted by a pudgy old man. He had gentle eyes, and a small smile, nearly hidden by a bushy mustache.
He met them at the door with a warm smile.
"What is the matter today, Dwane?" He asked, completely ignoring the new comers for now.
"The wild hasn't been nice to these travellers. They got a broke leg, and a bad bite." Dwane said, stepping aside for Doc to see the group.
"Oh my. Come, come. Let's get you patched up." Doc said, helping with the support of the Sargent.
Damien stayed close behind, hoping this Doc would be able to help Camo.
"Sit there." Doc said, motioning to a small cot.
"Will you take care of my daughter first? She's in much worse condition than I am." The Sargent said, looking back at Damien and Camo.
The Doc seemed to jump, surprised.
"Goodness, What happened to the Lass? Set her there, Lad. Chilam! We have patients!" The Doc spoke fast, seeming jittery as he fluttered around the room.
"She was attacked by this... Thing." Damien said. "It blended in with the night and had glowing red eyes."
"Sivatagi ördög." A woman spoke from the doorway.
"What?" Damien asked.
"That's my assistant, Chilam. Excuse her language, she is from a far off country. Chilam, fetch my surgery tools."
"What's a Sivy Odog?" Damien said.
"Sivatagi ördög. Devil of the Desert." Chilam said, opening cabinets and gathering silver tools. "That bite is from it."
"Can she be helped?" The Sargent asked, taking his daughter's hand in his.
"Oh yes. But not by us." Chilam responded, handing the tools to Doc.
"Nonsense. If she can be healed, it will be by us." Doc said, smiling as he approached Camo.
As the Sargent watched the Doc and Camo, Damien walked over to Chilam.
"Who do you say can heal her?" Damien asked.
"The Cein of the Natives. They have much knowledge and are connected to the magic of the land. As much as the Sivatagi ördög is Evil, they are Good. Take her to them, and they will heal her. If they believe she is worth healing."
"Chilam! I need your assistance." The Doc called.
As Chilam walked away, her words sent a shiver down Damien's back. Pushing away the inexplicable fear, Damien returned to Camo's side.
The Doc was cleaning her wound, washing away the blood and pus with water, gently wiping a cloth across it, as Chilam replaced a cold cloth on her forehead.
God she looks awful.
Damien thought as he took Camo's hand again. He resisted the urge to kiss her palm, afraid of the Sargent's reaction, but he held her hand in both of his. He held back the small notion to chuckle, her hand was so much smaller than his, but he held that back as well. Now was a time for seriousness. Camo had a serious injury, she could lose her arm. Damien had no right to be musing about kissing her hand, or how well it fit into his.
Focus Damien. Get Camo to these Natives, then you can daydream about her all you want.
Looking at her pale face bunched up in pain, his heart let out another pang of sorrow and fear.
Pull through Camo. Please. There's so much I still have to tell you.