Kech found her eyes not immediately going to Noven's sutures like they normally would, but rather, traveling over the various ridges of his bare torso. He had scars here and there, but they didn't detract from the strength his body gave off visually. If anything, they enhanced it, and Kech felt something within her, something that warmed her cheeks. Despite the dim lighting, the blush in her cheeks might be seen. Snapping her eyes back to his wound, her lips pursed. It was definitely infected. There was a thin film of pus covering it, was swollen and red. The stitches weren't torn, but were definitely loose, several loops popped out above the skin. Her eyes went to Noven's, an eyebrow cocked, as if saying 'Really?'.
"You keep fighting with stitches, yes?"
The question was mostly rhetorical, for it seemed he would have to, especially with all the craziness this season. But because he'd be doing that, she decided to redo his sutures entirely, by doing individual ones, rather than a long chain ladder as she had done before. It was a lot more effort, but they wouldn't loosen as easily, and she'd been told by those better than her that it reduced the risk of infection. But she had to remove the thread first, and was contemplating the best way to do that. She moved over to the hearth, putting a pot of water on the fire. She was considering snipping down the center of the wound, and pulling the sutures out in bits, rather than trying to unravel the whole thing.
She returned to the table and began pulling things out of her pack, the first being Noven's favorite, the jar of grain alcohol. She also pulled out a pair of snips, normally used to cut leaves from herbs, as well as several herbal pouches, setting them aside. She poured the alcohol over the blades, letting the excess drip off. "I cut stitches, pull out. I then scrub wound, hurt lot. I add medicine, do new stitches, different kind. No cost, my fault infected. Hope not much dead in wound. No want cut out."
Kechaiya gave him a moment to take this all in. Then, placing her left hand against his abdomen as a brace, she brought the snips to one end of the wound. Carefully, she slipped to lower blade beneath the first strand, making sure to get it below the one that was below the flesh. Snip. Because of how close her sutures were together, the skin barely parted, and she knew there would be little to no pain in this part of the process. But it would probably feel rather strange and foreign. Using the tips of the snips, she gently pulled the severed strand free, setting them on the table. Snip, pull, snip, pull, she worked her way up to the opposite end of the wound, all laid bare now. There wasn't near as much bleeding as the first time, but she was not pleased by what she inside.
The interior of the wound was mostly pus filled, yellow goop, surrounded by inflamed red flesh. This was going to take a lot of very painful work to clean. The inflammation would make the pain that much worse. He might be tough, but she knew that the body could only handle so much pain before it forced him to pass out. The only problem with that was the herb for pain, Tolm, was among those ruined. There was only one real option then. "No move." Her fingers reached for his belt, quickly undoing it, and pulling it free from his trousers. She saw Jillene raise an eyebrow at the sound, but chose not to respond to it. She brought the belt up to his mouth, folded it twice, "Bite on this. No have herbs for pain. This worse than last time."
Moving back to the table, she pulled a clean rag out of her kit and a mixing bowl. She poured one part wine and one part salt water into it. She also pulled out her mortar and pestle, dumping some dried Belltor leaves into it. Deftly she twisted and pushed, grinding it to a fine powder, which she then poured into the water. She repeated the process with Jile bark, then squished and added Jile berries to the mix. Walking over to the fire, she placed the bowl atop the opening of the pot to heat it up. She waited until it was boiling, then with the rag as hand protection, carried it back over to the table. She dunked the rag in the hot mixture, got it completely soaked, and the squeezed it out. "Be ready, try no move." The rare concern in her eyes would be evidence of what was about to happen.
She held an end of the rag in between two fingers, making sure that it was the only thing that would touch the innards, and not her skin. She started at the right end of the wound, just as she'd done with the snips. Taking a deep breath first, she then firmly pushed the hot rag into the fleshy crevice. She could not risk being gentle with this. She scoured out the lower face of the exposed skin and muscle, working her finger down to the bottom of the valley, and up the opposite wall. The pressure alone would be excruciating, but the additional heat, alcohol, and salt water is what would put it over the top. She worked carefully slowly, doing a small section at a time. Her hand progressed along the wound, removing pus, and leaving blood in its wake. Several times she had to put the rag aside for another, constantly cleaning it in the solution. Finally, she reached the end of it, and put the rag aside.
She then grabbed a final rag, and doused her fingers in alcohol. She had to check, to see, to get in there, to ensure there was no dead flesh left behind. Using the rag to sop up the blood that was slowly pouring in, she got real close, spreading the wound with her fingers as much as she could without worsening it. She kept at it for quite a while, looking for green or black flesh, but was satisfied to have found none. She stood up, cleaned off her hand, looking down to see how her patient was doing.
