***
Hope shook the last of the spiders off of her and took a moment to reload her shotgun.
“Let me take a look at it, Jackson,” Hope said, slinging her shotgun back as she walked over to the inventor. She rolled up his torn trouser leg to see the puncture wounds, bubbling with green bile and blood.
Hope took a breath and rubbed her hands together. Then she pressed them over his wound. She whispered some soft words. Her hands started to glow, and heat seeped into Jackson. The pain receded. When Hope removed her hands, they were bloody, and so was his leg, but the wound was gone.
“Better,” Hope said, pulling out a handkerchief and her canteen to wash her hands. She murmured another prayer for herself.
***
Hope shook the last of the spiders off of her and took a moment to reload her shotgun.
“Let me take a look at it, Jackson,” Hope said, slinging her shotgun back as she walked over to the inventor. She rolled up his torn trouser leg to see the puncture wounds, bubbling with green bile and blood.
Hope took a breath and rubbed her hands together. Then she pressed them over his wound. She whispered some soft words. Her hands started to glow, and heat seeped into Jackson. The pain receded. When Hope removed her hands, they were bloody, and so was his leg, but the wound was gone.
“Better,” Hope said, pulling out a handkerchief and her canteen to wash her hands. She murmured another prayer for herself.
The Hope turned to the injured steer, lowing in agony.
“Hush,” Hope soothed, running her hands along the broken leg and praying.
***
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***