Snippet #2646622

"That's bullshit Wiseman. You're just doing what nearly every fucking field agent does and ignoring what I have to say in favour of the usual kneejerk macho shit of none of the field team being able to handle the idea of taking criticism from a lowly researcher. All mission I've had people expecting me to tiptoe around their egos." Oren growled, watching as the man left with a considerable degree of resentment.

"And is anyone actually planning to help me here? Or am I now not only doing the work of research and field operative, but am I also going to have to be the medical department too whilst Fel gets over whatever the hell s wrong with her."

The vampress hopped over to the cryptid, pulling a pair of gloves on.

In other situations, the strong smell of blood would have made working quite challenging. However there was nothing in the least bit attracting about the lime green ichor that was seeping through the sheet wrappings in large quantities.

Taking some shears Oren began to cut though the saturated fabric, only to glimpse what a mess this was. Organs out of place, muscles cut, ribs broken away. This was really a matter of major surgery, and Oren was not really a surgeon. Hell, she wasn't really even a medic. She had the training in the theory, but very little interest in the field, and this was going to be something incredibly difficult to fix up, especially if she ended up working solo.

Most beings would have been dead by this point anyway. The cryptid seemed to be hanging on, but the general lethargy and resignation about her by then, doing little to resist Oren's intrusion, told her that she was not doing well. And Oren felt at least partially responsible. Whilst she was not an especially empathetic person, she did believe in displaying some level of basic decency where work was concerned, and the fact that other SCION staff members could treat a case like this with even less than apathy, an active wish to kill a person who hadn't actually done anything, was, if nothing else, unsettling to her. Issac, Fel. The kind of attitude displayed was the kind of thing she had left her clan to get away from.