[Milliways: Triage]
It's nasty, sure. There's confusion and there's panic and there's so much magical hurt that any Lancran witch with an ounce of natural ability would do what Nanny does, which is hesitate, close her eyes against first and second sight, take a deep breath to steel herself against it, then plunge right in, sleeves drawn up.
There are a lot of people working on the injuries, a lot of healing going on, and a lot of people doing good magic of the kind she's never seen before. For a Discworld witch, most healing is 60% knowing the body, 35% knowing the mind, and just 5% actual magic. But it must never be said that Nanny is not open to new experiences.
Afterwards, a few people stood out in the minds of those who were there as having done wonderful things. Who performed miraculous acts of magic. Who will be remembered.
It's unlikely any of those people will be the woman in black. The one that talked people down from the panic. The one that provided an encouraging hand and a sip of something warming when it got too much. The one that chatted and smiled and acted like she saw carnage like this daily even though she'd never seen anything like it in her long life.
Nanny moved from person to person - chatting to the healers and the doctors as well as to the patients, cracking a joke here, holding a towel there. And sometimes a dry wrinkled hand touched a forehead and someone would feel less tired, more confident, able to get on with what they were doing, a task which seems a lot easier now, as if the patient hadn't been as badly afflicted as they thought. It must have been her friendly reassuring manner, right? Right.
Certainly there was nothing unusual about her. Just another old lady wandering around and helping the people doing the actual work. After all, who notices another old lady?
There are a lot of people working on the injuries, a lot of healing going on, and a lot of people doing good magic of the kind she's never seen before. For a Discworld witch, most healing is 60% knowing the body, 35% knowing the mind, and just 5% actual magic. But it must never be said that Nanny is not open to new experiences.
Afterwards, a few people stood out in the minds of those who were there as having done wonderful things. Who performed miraculous acts of magic. Who will be remembered.
It's unlikely any of those people will be the woman in black. The one that talked people down from the panic. The one that provided an encouraging hand and a sip of something warming when it got too much. The one that chatted and smiled and acted like she saw carnage like this daily even though she'd never seen anything like it in her long life.
Nanny moved from person to person - chatting to the healers and the doctors as well as to the patients, cracking a joke here, holding a towel there. And sometimes a dry wrinkled hand touched a forehead and someone would feel less tired, more confident, able to get on with what they were doing, a task which seems a lot easier now, as if the patient hadn't been as badly afflicted as they thought. It must have been her friendly reassuring manner, right? Right.
Certainly there was nothing unusual about her. Just another old lady wandering around and helping the people doing the actual work. After all, who notices another old lady?