N-no, it's okay. I haven't really...done this a lot, so...
[He'd rather be coached through how to do it right than make the attempt and just make it worse.
Basil doesn't like thinking about that either, but the timelines match up. Basil still probably has some weeks to go before he has to worry about feeding again, but Max...it's coming up on that time for her. He wonders what she might look like, now, if she had gotten to eat something before. Would her wounds look this dessicated? Would everything still be oozing sludgy moss, or would it be more like blood, even though her body no longer pumps it through her veins?
It's all idle thinking, pointless speculation as Basil works and tries to stay his hands from shaking too much. Wait until the wounds stop...oozing. Clean, disinfect, bandage...the former takes less time than normal, likely because they'd been sitting there for some time, giving her wounds more opportunity to just sort of fester and "bleed" until there was nothing left to escape. Only then does Basil feel confident in cleaning the wounds, but god, it's still hard.
But he does it anyway, because it's for Max.
For a while, he works in silence. It feels like there's been so much talking, so much noise, that it's nice to just...exist for a moment, even if the music still overpowers all. It's not music Basil wants to hear right now, because the violin keeps trying to twist into something else, a meandering waltz instead of a jaunty riff.]
I'm sorry this happened to you.
[Basil finally whispers, knowing there's nothing he could have done even if he were in his right mind at the time. Honestly, if he'd followed Max out there, there's a chance he would have just become another victim she was trying to save.]
cw: corpse decay
[He'd rather be coached through how to do it right than make the attempt and just make it worse.
Basil doesn't like thinking about that either, but the timelines match up. Basil still probably has some weeks to go before he has to worry about feeding again, but Max...it's coming up on that time for her. He wonders what she might look like, now, if she had gotten to eat something before. Would her wounds look this dessicated? Would everything still be oozing sludgy moss, or would it be more like blood, even though her body no longer pumps it through her veins?
It's all idle thinking, pointless speculation as Basil works and tries to stay his hands from shaking too much. Wait until the wounds stop...oozing. Clean, disinfect, bandage...the former takes less time than normal, likely because they'd been sitting there for some time, giving her wounds more opportunity to just sort of fester and "bleed" until there was nothing left to escape. Only then does Basil feel confident in cleaning the wounds, but god, it's still hard.
But he does it anyway, because it's for Max.
For a while, he works in silence. It feels like there's been so much talking, so much noise, that it's nice to just...exist for a moment, even if the music still overpowers all. It's not music Basil wants to hear right now, because the violin keeps trying to twist into something else, a meandering waltz instead of a jaunty riff.]
I'm sorry this happened to you.
[Basil finally whispers, knowing there's nothing he could have done even if he were in his right mind at the time. Honestly, if he'd followed Max out there, there's a chance he would have just become another victim she was trying to save.]