Opening up the wound in an attempt to get the bullet out. I needed a pump to get rid of some of the blood but as I didn't have one I had to improvise. Placing my mouth on the wound I would rather taste blood then have someone die on me again. I took in a mouth full almost chocking on the irony red substance spitting it on the floor then repeated it two more times finally I could see the bullet I got out my forceps and took it out placing it to the side. I sprayed some antibiotic solution over the wound to prevent infection. My mind became clouded "what next?" I asked my self aloud "close the wound" I nodded to myself in response.

Picking up the needle and thread my hands shook making it difficult to thread the needle. "Deep breaths" I reminded my self and soon enough my hands ceased shaking and I was easily able to thread the needle. Quickly I got to work stitching up the wound. The hard part was done, letting out a sigh of relief then I went to the kitchen, washed away the crimson from my hands and washing out the iron taste that lingered on my tongue. After I got straight back to work I sat him up against a stool and started bandaging tightly round the wound it was quite difficult considering he was unconscious and there was nobody to assist me. Noticing many other scars etched across his figure ' What does this guy do reseal with mouse? How did he even get shot in the first place? ' I placed my questions to the back of my mind as I tied the end of the bandage, now if he reopened the wound he wouldn't bleed out.

Once finished I laid him back down placing a pillow beneath his head knowing the wooden floor wasn't the most comfortable of places. Crisis averted I look over my patient his messy blonde hair was pulled into a tight pony tail, he was quite well built some mussels but not to much that he looked like a weight lifter. His jeans bared holes in the knees and where quite worn, over all he looked like a lumber jack. Lose hairs fell in front of his face I moved them away only to flinch back he felt freezing, I started worrying 'is he still alive? was all my work for nothing? ' Placing  my ear against his chest I  listened for a beat I then moved it over his head listening for breathing . I almost clasped hearing steady breaths.

Rising to my feet I  stretched as my bones cracked then clambered round the house collecting spare blankets and pillows .  Smothering him in all I collected hoping to bring his temperature back up. Finally all panic diminished now I decided to reward myself with a relaxing cup of tea. I leaned on the window ledge sipping at my tea as I looked down at the mysterious man "I wonder what happened? " I mumbled to myself . "Grrrrrrrrhhhh" turning on my toes I was surprised by the growling sound from so close. At first I thought it belonged to one of the local grizzlies but was proven mistaken by the sight of a pure white polar bear.

Leaning a hand and a cup on the window sill watching as the majestic animal took a fierce stance. " It must be awfully far from home I wonder what its doing all the way out here?" I smiled at the bear "He's mine" a hoarse voice answered my question "Ah!" I dropped my tea in shock my favourite tea mug shattering before my eyes. Letting out a sigh in annoyance bending down I pick up the pieces gathering them in my plam then looked up only to be meet with piecing violet eyes . He was trying to get up "No! Don't you'll reopen the wound " I warned he pulled away the covers not paying any attention to my warning as he looked over the bandages "so your the one who did this eh?" He asked coldly I nodded in response.