River had, these past few weeks, been spending her mornings dancing. Usually she used the stage, very early in the mornings when no one else was there yet. She would leave before the play rehearsals started, not really ready for anyone to watch her yet, and it was as though she had never been there to anyone who did not rise with (or sometimes
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"River? Stop for a minute, okay?" She started tearing off small pieces of her shirt. It wasn't perfect, but it would do better than the sweater. Smaller pieces equaled more pressure equaled a better chance of stopping the flow of blood. "I'll help carry him when I'm done."
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At least she sounded as if she knew how to help, which was more than River was able to do.
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She was all business, now, no trace of the somewhat naive bubblehead that she could be sometimes.
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She was only good for actual violence, and not for what came after.
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"I'm ready," she said. "Let's hurry, please."
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She was glad to see the compound, and even glad to see the clinic when they got there, even if she still had to pause at the threshold before she could go in.
"You know where stuff is here?" he asked, glancing around for a doctor in case they needed more help.
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"What I need you to do is keep him calm. He's not going to like this next part." She ran a brief hand near his muzzle, both to reassure him and to give him her scent. Best to let him know that someone was working on him and didn't want to hurt him.
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Simon Chicago seemed to agree; the puppy whimpered and whined and yipped, but he was still and as calm as he could be, under the circumstances.
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So she had another idea, if only she could remember. "Okay, I know there are pressure points on human bodies," she said to herself. "Pressure points that can make the pain go away, even if only for a little while. I just need to find one on him." Carefully, she started feeling the muscles around the dog's leg.
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