DESOLATION, DESPERATION // Open; Wounded Return

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Nord considered himself someone not easily swept into panic. Typically calm and collected, and didn't make rash decisions. Until a townsperson interrupted him in the middle of making negotiations, with Amespring officials about hunting rights for travellers, barely able to wheeze out about the vampire dragon is asking for you.

He would skin anyone who said he left mid meeting and snarling at anyone who got in his way.

Pushing his way through the wary crowd around the dragoness, Nord felt his blood boil at the sight of the crumbled female, "Who," he grit out thunderously, "did this, Bloodstone." Swinging his head to glare at the townsfolk, he roared for someone to grab any who has medical knowledge, and bandages now, "I have minimal knowledge of healing, but I can at least help clot the blood." Snatching the cautiously offered bandages as others scattered to find someone with medical know how, and with the slightest touch of tenderness, the Baron attempted to firmly press and wrap the weeping gashes, and any cuts he had bandages leftover for.

He had a look of rage and concern etched on his face as he sighed after using the meager bandages given to him, "I wish I could do more, but I worry more about completely ruining your wing instead of setting the bones."

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