Alysia tipped the bottle over, dampening the large cotton pad with the substance. It stung, there was no denying that, but other methods were not as effective. Cleaning it just with water wouldn't get rid of harmful bacteria, and bandaging it without cleaning it would just create a nice little breeding ground for disease.
Seeing the young man bite down on his shirt as he stretched out his arm, Alysia tisked, grinning playfully. "Oh, come on now, even the little 'uns get through this. Not usually with this big o' a gash, though..." She muttered the last line under her breath.
Alysia held onto the man's wrist, gripping it just enough so that he didn't jerk away. She patted the alcohol-covered cotton over the wound, wiping away the dried blood and grit that had gotten into it.
Post by That Guy with Headphones on Mar 5, 2013 20:28:34 GMT -4
A feeling of mothered guilt asked knocked on Jet's door, but he didn't answer, and ignored the thought that smaller children could handle this pain better than he could. These people were farmers. Musclemen. Laborers and the rest of the human race were practically two different breeds of the species. That thought, as with all of the others that had gone by in the past few minutes, dissipated at the touch of the purifying purge. The sharp burning scorched away his other four senses, allowing his tortured feeling to be the only sense left. Jet's eyes squinted, and the muscles around his jaws visibly clenched as the cotton dabbed at his bite. As his jaws burrowed into his shirt, Jet's surroundings shrank until all that was left was the cloth, his jaws, and his pained arm. He continued to grip the shirt with his teeth until the lady was finished with her harsh cleansing.