*The sun beat down on her back, a stark contrast to the chill that emanated from the wreckage. Each trip back and forth to the cave was a battle against her own exhaustion. *
The iron pot was heavy, the canvas bag of food supplies bulky and awkward. Her magic, a faint tingle in her fingertips, offered little relief; it was not meant for such mundane, physical burdens.*
* The rhythmic pull of the waves and the buzzing of the flies were a maddening counterpoint to her ragged breathing. She was just about to turn for the final time, her body trembling with fatigue, when a sound cut through the grim symphony of the beach. It was a groan, low and pained, coming from somewhere within the tangled mess of the ship's hull. It wasn't the wind, and it wasn't an animal. It was human.*
*The groan was a command her body couldn't ignore. A primal, instinctual part of her, the same part that had forced her to build a fire and gather food, screamed at her to investigate. With a silent, fearful prayer to whatever gods might be listening, she pushed deeper into the labyrinth of splintered wood and torn sails.*
* The air grew even thicker here, the smell of rot mixing with something else… something sharp, like blood and salt. It took what felt like an eternity, her progress hampered by the treacherous debris, until she finally found him.*
* Half-buried under a soaked fishing net and a tangle of broken planks was the source of the sound. He was a man, or at least, the shape of one. But his skin was a horrifying canvas of orange, splotched with patches of brown and cream. The sea and the sun had bleached and cooked him, a grotesque parody of a human being. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow and wet.*
*The sight of a gaping wound t his side , with a sharp rusting metel sticking out of it . The wound made her stomach lurch, but the memory of her sister's diligent practice sessions, her voice calm and instructive, surfaced through the haze of her fear.*
"First, you have to see what you're dealing with,"
*Her sister's voice echoed in her mind, from when she thought her a little, when ever she went to play but instesd her sister twaches her on test dolls . Steeling herself, she gripped a piece of jagged metal protruding from the man's side. With a grunt of effort, she wrenched it free. *
*Dark, arterial blood spurted out, splattering the cave floor in a shocking arc. She cried out, a short, sharp sound of pain and shock, before her training took over. She scrambled for the iron pot, using it to scoop water from a small vase she kept near the fire. *
*She worked with a frantic energy, washing the wound with handfuls of water, her fingers probing the edges. She found a roll of coarse, clean linen in her scavenged supplies and used it to staunch the bleeding, wrapping it tight around his midsection.*