George's breathing was painful, burning his lungs, and he dropped the cane- its hardwood cover shattered, the exposed metal now bloody. "It's gone." He managed, moving to Adith. The boy was bloodied; a mass of bone and flesh, his shoulder had been mangled, torn by teeth, and that filled George with sudden fear. But it was not the extent of his injuries; his leg was crushed and by the looks of it his ribs bruised if not broken.
He lifted the young man, still alive although by all rights George did not know how he could be, and cradled him as best he could. "Get me a cab, and find me a doctor!" He ordered, knowing that a doctor could be sent on, but Adith would have to be taken in from the cold and his wounds cleaned. No matter what the nature of their attacker, Adith was still human for the time being, and a brave young man who could not be left to die.
"A cab, I said!" George shouted again, feeling his nerves fray, and he turned his attention back to Adith, voice growing softer, trying to calm both the boy and himself. "I'll have a doctor sent for, don't you fear." He told him, "You will be fine, Adith, fine."