"Argh!"
Hank bellowed in pain as he lay on his bare back on a bed of moss, the gaping wound on his shoulder blade spreading a searing pain across his entire body.
"Please hold still and try not make a sound."
Helena wiped the perspiration from her brow and tended to his wounds, the cloth, bandages and even her hands drenched in his blood.
She then popped the cork from one of the healing potions they had stolen from Margaret and applied it on the wound. This was the second one she had used, yet the wound still did not close completely.
"What have I done..."
Hank covered his eyes and wept, knowing very well that he had doomed Margaret and Arthur to their deaths, he could only hope that they met a painless end.
"..."
Helena did not say anything to bring him comfort and continued tending to his wounds, but pain and regret were evident in her expression, she knew that they too would soon meet their end.
