[chrome]

Rivers couldn't express how relieved he was when Blake and Lacy made their way over to where he knelt in front of Roswell. Already Roswell's forehead felt clammy to the touch, the sweat that covered it made it that much more obvious that they needed to get the bleeding stopped in a more efficient way than his own attempt at a tourniquet. Releasing the death grip he had on Roswell's hoodie, he and Blake moved Roswell closer to the wrecked ship so they were closer to the medical supplies.

His eyes darted to Lacy who seemed to get serious and take control of the situation. He heard her ask for the med kit from her bag but wasn't exactly sure if she was talking to him and not being willing to leave Roswell's side he didn't make a move towards wherever it was her bag was to begin with. Instead he turned his wide green eyes to Blake at the other athlete's question.

"Yeah--uh, he got the boar. It's that way, not too far from here," he swallowed the lump in his throat as he pointed towards the direction of where they'd come from. "We'd just been gathering firewood when it showed up." Both hands went to run through his hair, not caring that they were spotty with Roswell's blood. Speaking of blood... "It shouldn't be hard to find. It was messy."

Rivers turned his gaze back to Lacy, impatient to get Roswell's bleeding stopped. "Do you have a needle and thread or something? Anything that we can sew it up with? He's lost a lot of blood already." He was nervous and jittery, biting his bottom lip harshly as he tried to pull himself together. Would Roswell have been acting this panicked if the roles had been reversed? He needed to get himself together.

"What do you need me to do? That tourniquet was quick and not particularly efficient." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "We can't lose him."