[center][h2]James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte[/h2][/center]

Sliding a ways, he doesn't move far when the shoulder check connects, letting loose a growl when it aggrivates the large splinter still sitting in his leg, and returns the favor, with twice the force, putting pressure back on the wound, his face dark. "You want to leave her there and let her fucking die of infection or risk her getting hurt worse?" He shakes his head. "No wonder the regular army thinks ninety percent of the militia shouldn't bother joining it, you're dense as hell!" Someone shows up with a can of ragnaid and James thanks them, quickly applying it to the wound. "Evan couldn't hold the beam forever and the quicker we got her out, the better, made treating her easier and safer for all involved." Satisfied, he put the makeshift bandage back to the wound. "Second, she's going unconscious with heavy blood loss, doesn't take a genius to know is bad. Slapping her was an effort to wake her up, basic field care. If that doesn't work, do something that'll shock 'em awake, surprises them. She'd already gotten a giant piece of wood through her, so I went with the next best thing. And I sure as hell ain't so twisted as to shove my fingers into her wound to make pain wake her up."

Pushing Lilly gently onto her side, he applies ragnaid to the other side of the wound before laying her down and continuing to put down pressure. "I actually enlisted, I got to run actual scenarios where these things happened. While you all were getting slaughtered in Rineheim, the regular army was taking casualties on the border, living these scenarios. We left two people impaled on spikes like that, they were dead in minutes. The one we managed to get to a get free? We were able to treat and safe him. Next time you think you know better than the trained soldier, shove it up your ass. Any further issues should be handled by the Sarge, not someone of my rank."