Holding the ointment bowl in my hand, I followed Mama to Room#2 where lay Hector sprawled on the bed in the most awkward position I had ever seen.
"Are you okay?" Mama asked as she approached the bed.
He groaned in reply and turned to look at Mama's face, his own twisted in pain.
"Oookay," Mama mumbled as she placed the bowl on the nightstand and turned to examine Hector's wounds. "Where do we need work, eh?"
"W-Waist," Hector said with difficulty. He turned his body to the side so that the red, puckered wound that trickled blood was up in the air.
Mama nodded. "That's one bad cut. But it doesn't seem as if any organs were cut along with it, since it doesn't go too deep. You're one lucky man."
Hector scoffed in pain and disbelief. "Yeah, right."
Mama frowned. "You should be glad you weren't in Sidmund's place, boy."
