She wants to respond that they can find help in the other half of the population but she knows the kind of people they are. Too afraid, too unskilled to make any sort of real difference. They'll be killed if they helped a pair of assassins sent in to kill the 'ruler'.
Natasha, remarkable, doesn't notice the other woman speak or leave. She's too focused on Clint and that outburst of pain. "You're gonna be OK. I'll..." She'll what? Tasha's trained in field dressing, maybe stitches. She can't fix this. She's not a surgeon.
Her panicked train of thought is cut off then a battered old medical bag lands heavily on the table next to the cot Clint's on. The owner of the bag, whom the old woman just fetched, doesn't speak. He simply moves with professional speed and accuracy to inspect how and where Clint's been injured.
For one of the few times in her life, Tasha has no idea what the hell to do.
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chiming
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Date: 2012-06-26 09:28 am (UTC)From:Natasha, remarkable, doesn't notice the other woman speak or leave. She's too focused on Clint and that outburst of pain. "You're gonna be OK. I'll..." She'll what? Tasha's trained in field dressing, maybe stitches. She can't fix this. She's not a surgeon.
Her panicked train of thought is cut off then a battered old medical bag lands heavily on the table next to the cot Clint's on. The owner of the bag, whom the old woman just fetched, doesn't speak. He simply moves with professional speed and accuracy to inspect how and where Clint's been injured.
For one of the few times in her life, Tasha has no idea what the hell to do.