Kreyu did not get to witness this process from an outsider's perspective the last time he worked, and while the injury is not as immediately critical as hers was, it is still quite serious.
Skellig is careful with his hands, one moving to the back of Ahmose's neck briefly (where with Kreyu, his priority was stopping the bleeding, stopping the tearing of flesh and tissues as she struggled against Death's grip) to allow his reach to extend to the pain receptors in the mind, taking off some of the sparks that are crackling along the aggravated spinal cord, the nerves screaming. He needs less tension, and taking away the HURT will help greatly.
Once he is satisfied (Ahmose is still awake, but the opium will find it a bit easier to work now) Skellig's focus shifts to the spine, gritting his teeth once again as he cocks his head to the side, staring at the dark bruise that covers the skin (seeing beneath it with his ears, listening to the muscles and tendons and nerves that are still quivering, screaming, why is it so loud in here) intently.
(His feet are again just barely touching the floor.)
A few words are uttered under his breath, then he shakes his head, huffing in frustration before his posture changes, his fingers twitch, fingertips pressing against the bruise. Ahmose sucks in a pained breath, but Skellig's eyes don't shift away from what he's staring at.
(Coaxing a vertebra back into alignment is not a quick or simple task, even in circumstances less stressful than this.)
The colors of the bruise shift slightly, there is a noticeable reduction in swelling beneath the skin. Adjusting his jaw, he moves his hand a little lower, then a little higher. After another pause, Skellig's gaze quickly darts to look down at Ahmose's left foot. He scowls at it briefly, pausing once more. Then the foot twitches, and Skellig hears Ahmose exhale, relief mixed with pain.
"There you are," he mutters, voice low (but pleased) as his expression shifts into more of a smirk. "That's what I wanted of you."
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Skellig is careful with his hands, one moving to the back of Ahmose's neck briefly (where with Kreyu, his priority was stopping the bleeding, stopping the tearing of flesh and tissues as she struggled against Death's grip) to allow his reach to extend to the pain receptors in the mind, taking off some of the sparks that are crackling along the aggravated spinal cord, the nerves screaming. He needs less tension, and taking away the HURT will help greatly.
Once he is satisfied (Ahmose is still awake, but the opium will find it a bit easier to work now) Skellig's focus shifts to the spine, gritting his teeth once again as he cocks his head to the side, staring at the dark bruise that covers the skin (seeing beneath it with his ears, listening to the muscles and tendons and nerves that are still quivering, screaming, why is it so loud in here) intently.
(His feet are again just barely touching the floor.)
A few words are uttered under his breath, then he shakes his head, huffing in frustration before his posture changes, his fingers twitch, fingertips pressing against the bruise. Ahmose sucks in a pained breath, but Skellig's eyes don't shift away from what he's staring at.
(Coaxing a vertebra back into alignment is not a quick or simple task, even in circumstances less stressful than this.)
The colors of the bruise shift slightly, there is a noticeable reduction in swelling beneath the skin. Adjusting his jaw, he moves his hand a little lower, then a little higher. After another pause, Skellig's gaze quickly darts to look down at Ahmose's left foot. He scowls at it briefly, pausing once more. Then the foot twitches, and Skellig hears Ahmose exhale, relief mixed with pain.
"There you are," he mutters, voice low (but pleased) as his expression shifts into more of a smirk. "That's what I wanted of you."