The mime lies there in his own blood,breathing shallowly .
Looks like he’s been there for some time,obviously the work of hounds…
With the medicine out of the way, Waverly put a hand on one of Wes’ wounds, putting pressure on it until the blood stopped. Her other hand held onto his, squeezing it comfortingly. She tried to smile back, but it was a broken smile that hadn’t a shred of happiness behind it. Out of instinct, she leaned down and kissed the mime on his forehead. “You’ll f-feel better soon. I’ll stay with you…”
Wes winced once more at the pressure,but it’s still good that the bleeding stopped.
The mime,weakly,tries to hold onto Waverly’s hand as well. He didn’t have a strong grip but it was good enough.
Wesley smiles more at the kiss and leans his head against her.
All this had tired out the mime,so he shut his eyes.
Once Wes had dozed off, Waverly watched him for a moment or two before going anywhere. The poor guy—he was young and inexperienced, not unlike her. He probably didn’t even hear ‘them’ coming…and by the look of his wounds, most likely hounds. As she was wiping the blood away, she had noticed the bite marks. While Wes slept, Waverly grabbed some wrappings and got to work covering him in bandages, being gentle as to not disturb his sleep.