― 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈.
❝ you know how
the moon only glows
because it's reflecting
off the sun?
that's me with him.
he's my sun,
and i only shine
because he's there. ❞
or, in which rile...
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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"CHIT DON YU ONA HIR GON?" Denae asked when noticing Riley. (What are you in here for?)
The only words Riley understood were 'are', 'you', and 'for'. She looked up to Denae from where she sat on a bench, boots planted firmly on the ground, giving her a puzzled expression before the grounder motioned to the bars. "Oh!" Riley exclaimed before shrugging. "Ai ponch Belomi, um.." (I punched Bellamy, and..)
"Em gaf sis au." (She wanted to help.) It was Lincoln speaking, approaching them with a small smile. Riley looked up, returning the expression. "Reshop, Denae." (Rest up, Denae.) "Riley, we have someone injured from the fight. Can you.." He trailed off, unsure of the medical term, but knowing that she was the one with the most experience in the prison.
Assuming Abby had provided them with some medical supplies, she quickly nodded. "Yeah, of course." This was what she was about. Helping people. She paused, taking a second to look at her left hand that had struck the wall when Bellamy dodged her hit. Abby had given her a small, metal brace that kept her broken thumb and sprained knuckles in place. Despite the situation, Riley was glad she was right handed.
Lincoln left, but returned seconds later with a limping grounder he had allowed to rest on his side to walk. Riley slid off the bench, allowing the wounded to take a seat as Lincoln handed her a small case, with a red cross on the front.
Riley kneeled down, clicking the case open. She inspected the wound on the grounder's leg, seeing it was bleeding. It didn't look like it needed any stitches. "It should be fine," she stated, looking over her shoulder to see Lincoln's relieved expression. "I'll put some antiseptic on it, and bandage it so that it won't become infected." Lincoln repeated the words in Trigedasleng, assuring the other it would be fine. Riley's hands moved quickly, pulling out the supplies she needed. Her procedure was skillful, careful, and attempting to do it perfectly.
Kneeling behind Riley, Lincoln watched her strategy up until she was finished. "All done," she announced, glancing up and flashing the wounded with a smile. "Odon," she repeated. (Done.) "Yu fir.." (You'll be..) She had to pause, thinking of the words, before lifting her hand and sticking her thumb up, signalling to the other that she would be fine.
"Ste yuj," Lincoln added, stretching his arms to pat both Riley and her on the shoulder. (Stay strong.)
Riley smiled, grateful, as she packed the medical supplies back into the case. The positive emotion faded as the door to the prison had swung open with a shout of; "Chancellor on deck!" She picked her head up, before quickly excusing herself to the two grounders and cautiously stepping forward.
It was Pike, Bellamy, Bryan, and another guard. Riley's face tightened into disgust, but she couldn't help feeling a bit of pride when seeing the bruise on the side of Bellamy's face from where she had struck him, along with his nose. Granted, her left hand was crippled, and her own face had a bruise, but it was still nice to know she had done her own damage before he got away.
