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Tabrett was quite petite in comparison to the men around the table, most especially Bear. Her features were delicate, posessing an almost doll-like quality, but her hands were sure and strong when she took hold of the wounded Roegadyn. There was no way she would be able to hold him if he shot up from that chair and flailed about like a raging beast, but even her insignificant weight would be able to manage just one limb. She was prepared for Bear to flinch, jump, or pull. Her small hands were steel bands on the wounded man's arm.
"Have you any formal training?" she questioned of Gavriel. Or had he learned the way many soldiers did? From past personal experience. There had been times when she had to stitch a wound or two on her travels.
"Have you any formal training?" she questioned of Gavriel. Or had he learned the way many soldiers did? From past personal experience. There had been times when she had to stitch a wound or two on her travels.