By a snake. An animal from the old world. Until now, they were just a story.

Now they’re real, they’re here, and they’re venomous, apparently. Grey is focused on the wound. He knows little about snakes, but plenty about infection. He knows the danger of that, how easy it is to lose an arm or worse, if it gets bad. He needs something to clean it, something to wrap it…

That won’t get the poison out.

He pushes his panic down. He has only just found Curtis, and he will absolutely not leave him again. His hands are on him, helping him to sit, keeping him stable, checking his temperature. Then he pulls open the pack he’d grabbed, empties its contents onto the ground and finds the bottle – the little bottle his mentor had told him to get, because it goes in water and makes it safe to drink. The bottle’s label says that it’s called iodine. Grey holds it up in Curtis’ eye line, and points hopefully at the wound. Will this help? Will this make it safe? How do people treat snake bites? He doesn’t know, has never had to know, but if Curtis can tell him then he’ll do it. His empty hand touches nervously at Curtis’ shoulder.

He’s got to find a way to make him better.