[I] In Serious Need Of Patching Up

It was rare that Alek lost in a fight.

But when he did, he lost spectacularly. The Grecian Lycan didn't ever do things by halves.

He and his son had been fighting. Both had been feeling rather restless and needed a way to vent. The two had decided to get together and practise some old school fighting; sword and fists and shields. Their fighting had been ruthless, very close to a Gladiator fight to the death.

The two had fought long and hard, starting in the mid-afternoon and ending now; in the late evening.

The Lycan's clothes - a simple tunic, easy to move in as he fought - were torn and bloodied. His tunic was torn, barely held up by a string and the rope around his waist.

He had many lacerations over his chest and a few little nicks on his neck and cheeks. The worst wounds, however, were on his arms and stomach. Nasty tears and deep gouges that were bleeding profusely; cuts and stab wounds from his son's sword.

He clutched one heavily bleeding wound on his stomach as he pushed open the doors to the infirmary.

"Lyssum?" he called out, hoping the woman was there.

He needed some serious patching up.

Lyssum was in a cleaning mood. Not just any cleaning but... cleaning, like spring cleaning only in autumn. She had everything pulled out and littering the Infirmary; needles, bandages, random pieces of machinery and all.

Knowing her, she will mostly likely snap out of her cleaning mood and leave the Infirmary a hell hole within the hour.

She tilted her head as she heard a male voice call her from the main Infirmary. She quickly threw the scalpel she had been holding over her shoulder and let is tumble noisely onto the floor before shouting back to her visitor, the pain in the mans voice making her grin.

"Yees?~ Ly will be there in a tick, she will!" Backing up slowly, she made her way from out of the mess that was the back room.

This will be fuun~

Ah good, she was here.

That was good. He could only imagine what Lycus would say if he went back to him in this state.

The Lycan moved forwards, slumping onto the closest available bed, groaning in pain as the movement jostled painful wounds.

"I got caught in a rather nasty fight with the wrong end of my son's sword and lost. It wouldn't be much trouble to get myself stitched up? These wounds are beyond my healing capability."

He'd bleed out or catch his death through infection if he didn't get these cleaned and stitched.