Ostus was prepared to say more, but stopped himself short when he realized that Kiara was in the middle of undressing. "O-oh, sorry," he mumbled, his immediate instinct to back out of the tent, but he hesitated...

Though he did note the scar across her chest, it wasn't his current focus; he'd address that later. Right now, he was worried about the wound on her shoulder... it looked far worse than he initially thought. "Oh, Kiara," he whispered, unable to hide the tightness of worry in his voice. He approached her slowly, squinting and frowning at her injury. He was no doctor. Pour liquor on an open wound to disinfect it. Apply pressure to stop the bleeding. If it won't stop bleeding, cauterize the wound. Then, take the injured to a doctor. They had barely started the tough part of their journey, and this had to happen.

He managed to tear his gaze from the wound when Kiara addressed him. Like the scar, he would address the point she finally called him by name later. Right now, he was too distracted by the panic in her voice and the desperation in her eyes.

Ostus had never felt so helpless, and it was rare for him to feel this scared. He swallowed back his own rising panic... her arm was numbing, so what did that mean? Nerve damage? He had no idea what to do about that. Most soldiers with numb limbs he never saw again after they were whisked away to the nearest doctor. There were no villages along the mountain path; they would either have to turn back to find a nearest doctor or push on to Berinike.

Ostus licked his lips anxiously, struggling to keep calm. It would not do Kiara any good for him to panic. "I'm not a doctor," he murmured apologetically, "but I've seen many people hurt... can you move your arm at all?" With all the blood, he couldn't quite tell if the bone was broken or not. He looked around, grabbed her shirt, and scooted closer; it was folly to continue to allow the blood to flow from her arm like this. "Try to move your arm. I'm gonna press this against your wound to try to stop the bleeding. It may or may not hurt like a bitch; I don't know the extent of your numbness."

He took a deep breath, knowing it was not good to hesitate on things like this; he'd lose his nerve otherwise. He reached around to steady the back of her shoulder with one hand, using the other to press her shirt against the wound.