Re: quicklog: connie/matt/etain
[Matt wasn't scared of the paintings. He was worried about the sheer amount of blood, worried when she coughed again and didn't even have the strength to wipe it off. In the distance, a siren was approaching. He looked up at Connie.] Grab them, bring them up? Be here in under a minute. [No need to explain how he'd learned to judge the distance of emergency vehicles by sound.
He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, dingy grey, but clean. Who carried handkerchiefs anymore? He wiped the stark red blood from her chin, then pushed it into her hand. It might make her feel better not to drool blood on herself, and there wasn't much more he could do. He was a medic, and a veterinarian - he didn't have the skill or equipment to treat internal bleeding, not when there was better medical help almost here.] It's okay. Slow. Breathe slow. Don't try talking.