strand of muscle becomes clear, hanging loosely under the shock of pain like long skeins of wet yarn. I pull back for a moment to turn off as much of the other pain as I can. It dims under the force of my will, and I turn up the receptors around the large rib. The shock is stunning for a second, but now I can find the proper strands that will pull the bone ends together. These I pull carefully into place. The bone ends move in a glare of pain that I can now almost ignore, it is so intense. They meet and I feel them grate as I pull more muscle strands into tetanus so that they lock. The pain of the muscle spasms is so minute in comparison to the others that it is almost a relief. Piece by piece I build up a hard muscled splint for the ribs, shifting the burden of breathing to the other lung so that only the very bottom part of the left lung moves when I breathe. And then I can relax for a time.
Almost, death would come easily now, I feel, as I ride the wash of pain that comes back as I must relax my will. But the thirst drives me on. I promise my body water if it will finish this job. I must set the leg before I can move. My concentration drives down into the upper leg. The large bone, along the bone, through the mashed and weeping tissues. The impact must have been very great, but the veins and arteries are not completely severed anywhere, and their shock contractions are holding well and keeping me from bleeding to death. I feel along until there are bone splinters. These will work out. Now I am at the break. It is a transverse break, with not much manipulation necessary for setting. I must have dragged it carefully. I do not recall now. I pause to put back the pain from the rest of the body and set to work isolating the necessary muscles, which for the hind leg will be most of the large extensors. One by one I ease them into tension until a brief burst of overload locks them in place. The pain of the locking is greater in the leg, but still minor in comparison with the other agonies. Now the next one, the great thigh muscle that will most surely hold. It stretches slowly to receive the bone, contracts gradually as I apply the pressure of will to the strands, and it moves smoothly to embrace the break, sealing with its strength the fragile bone ends, and now it locks. Ah, it is a relief to feel that pain and know the bone is tightly held. As I back away from the internal sensorium, I begin to hear and feel externally again, and the raging dryness that is like burning wood in my mouth and throat rises above the pain. Now if the wrist is all right for a time. I raise it and hold it close to my stomach. It will do for awhile. Explore it in detail later. Must have water.
I extend my spatial sense. Trees, a few birds asleep, dim light like twilight coming through the leaves. Living thing moving along the ground near the place where the trees stop. Rabbits. Come, rabbit. Come to me. I want you, rabbit. I feel the nearest little animal hopping toward the hole where I am crumpled up under the fallen log. I cannot sense water nearby. As divided as my consciousness is now, I can still make this little creature come to me. The rabbit appears to my sight, looking with blank, stupid eyes into the hollow where I lie. Come, little vessel, down the slope and under my jaw. You must! I command as the burning in my throat and mouth overwhelm me. The rabbit takes a step and slides down into the hole with me. He lies against my bloody chest, quivering with fear. I command him to come close under my jaw, for I cannot move. He must nearly thrust his body into my mouth, and then I move reflexively to snap my teeth into him, feeling the hot blood in my throat, groaning with pain in my neck, and the rabbit lets out his final squeal. I tear it apart in my jaws, gulping it, sucking at the juices, trying to swallow the flesh before I am ready. I retch and realize that if I do not take it slowly I will suffocate myself, for I cannot properly
Almost, death would come easily now, I feel, as I ride the wash of pain that comes back as I must relax my will. But the thirst drives me on. I promise my body water if it will finish this job. I must set the leg before I can move. My concentration drives down into the upper leg. The large bone, along the bone, through the mashed and weeping tissues. The impact must have been very great, but the veins and arteries are not completely severed anywhere, and their shock contractions are holding well and keeping me from bleeding to death. I feel along until there are bone splinters. These will work out. Now I am at the break. It is a transverse break, with not much manipulation necessary for setting. I must have dragged it carefully. I do not recall now. I pause to put back the pain from the rest of the body and set to work isolating the necessary muscles, which for the hind leg will be most of the large extensors. One by one I ease them into tension until a brief burst of overload locks them in place. The pain of the locking is greater in the leg, but still minor in comparison with the other agonies. Now the next one, the great thigh muscle that will most surely hold. It stretches slowly to receive the bone, contracts gradually as I apply the pressure of will to the strands, and it moves smoothly to embrace the break, sealing with its strength the fragile bone ends, and now it locks. Ah, it is a relief to feel that pain and know the bone is tightly held. As I back away from the internal sensorium, I begin to hear and feel externally again, and the raging dryness that is like burning wood in my mouth and throat rises above the pain. Now if the wrist is all right for a time. I raise it and hold it close to my stomach. It will do for awhile. Explore it in detail later. Must have water.
I extend my spatial sense. Trees, a few birds asleep, dim light like twilight coming through the leaves. Living thing moving along the ground near the place where the trees stop. Rabbits. Come, rabbit. Come to me. I want you, rabbit. I feel the nearest little animal hopping toward the hole where I am crumpled up under the fallen log. I cannot sense water nearby. As divided as my consciousness is now, I can still make this little creature come to me. The rabbit appears to my sight, looking with blank, stupid eyes into the hollow where I lie. Come, little vessel, down the slope and under my jaw. You must! I command as the burning in my throat and mouth overwhelm me. The rabbit takes a step and slides down into the hole with me. He lies against my bloody chest, quivering with fear. I command him to come close under my jaw, for I cannot move. He must nearly thrust his body into my mouth, and then I move reflexively to snap my teeth into him, feeling the hot blood in my throat, groaning with pain in my neck, and the rabbit lets out his final squeal. I tear it apart in my jaws, gulping it, sucking at the juices, trying to swallow the flesh before I am ready. I retch and realize that if I do not take it slowly I will suffocate myself, for I cannot properly
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