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Will’s attention was focused on the immediacy of the animal’s wounds. He nodded his head, smiling tightly, as he finished his exam of the leg. There were no broken bones. And the wounds though long and ragged edged did not cut deep into the muscles or tendons.
‘Bring my wooden chest over here, won’t you Gable? It’s there on the shelf just above the workbench.’ Will held the pony’s lead while the Elf fetched the box. ‘I think just some of this soothing ointment and a nice pad of moss against these wounds on the leg will be enough for now.’ He worked quickly, letting Gable talk soothingly to the pony.
‘Now you said something about a saddle? All torn up?’ Will glanced at Gable as he asked the question. He’d finished bandaging the leg and was now cleaning the gashes in the pony’s flank. ‘And a piece of cape?’ he went on, his head shaking at the greater depth of one of the gashes. ‘I think I’ll need to put in a few stitches to this one before we bandage it.’ ‘Hmmm . . . I wonder how bad the rider must look if his fleet footed pony suffered these sort of injuries.’
‘Here, help me spread this sticky goo on the wounds. Old Granny Bracken made it up for me. She swears the herbs and such in it will keep all sorts of ailments for bothering raw cuts like these.’ They worked in companionable silence for a while. ‘Go ahead then, Gable, and find her a nice, clean stall. Make sure she’s got water and hay to munch on and a nice thick layer of straw if she wants to lie down.’ He started to put his medicines and bandages away in the chest and clean up the mess. ‘Don’t know if she’ll let you, but she might feel more relaxed if she’ll let you brush her a bit and get the tangles and burrs out of her coat.’
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