#fun fact alginate dressing is made from seaweed which is why i specified

[autobotmedic]

@13urningstars

"Do what you got to do doc, I can handle it. I'm a big girl." Despite the easy going grin on her face, she's incredibly tense and it takes everything in her power to keep her tail still and not worsen the wound, claws practically digging miniature ravines in the rock she'd been settled on.

It had been a bad turn of events really. She had been exploring outside the Iacon Shoal as she most often did during her free time, when she had stumbled upon a small shark trapped in a fishers net. Now she couldn't tell you how the net had separated from its source (although, based on the state of the cord, she assumed it had frayed due to age and over use), but she could say that she had managed to free its prey. At a price, of course. During its panic, the shark had perceived her as a threat and attacked, which she wasn't able to avoid before successfully calming it down.

She returned from that endeavor with a new friend to feed the next time she was out, and a decently bite in her tail that hurt like a bitch.

She's lucky ratchet stumbled upon her really. Primus known's he's do a better job at patching her up then she ever could. And really? How much more could it hurt compared to now?

He nodded at her reply to his warning, accepting the permission to proceed. Ratchet could feel her tension as his hand slid under her tail to hold it while his other retrieved a package of material from the pouches along his back. He opened it, removed and wrapped the alginate dressing tightly around her tail, then tied a knot on the side opposite her injury to secure it in place. Afterward, he pressed his large palm over the worst of the marks, relying only on memory now that the wound itself was hidden (but he had taken careful note, thus memory was all he required).

"There is an antimicrobial solution added to these, and that will suffice, but it would be safer to have it cleaned properly later." Whether by him, in a better equipped medical room, or someone else. That was her choice.

Maintaining the pressure on her wound, he added, in a lower tone, "... I prefer Rescue or Ratchet, over 'doc,' by the way." It was not as important as medical care, but he would be applying pressure for several minutes, and it was better on any patient to have a distraction such as conversation than silence. No other topic had come to mind.