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    Summary

    "Master druid!" a small man Eskel instantly recognised as Bartek, a local farmer who lives not far from Eskel's home, called out to him. "Master druid, please !"

    "Well met, Bartek! How can I help you, my good man ?"

    "There's... a witcher, sir. He's... hurt," Bartek managed to pant out between laboured breaths, "he's dying, me thinks. He needs urgent care."

    "Guide me to him."

    Eskel wasn't planning on taking a detour. It was dark already and it was dangerous for anyone to be seen travelling in these times of war. But healing people was Eskel’s profession and his duty. He would be damned if he let anyone die on his watch without at least trying his very best to heal them first.

    ____

    Prompt fill Drifting Apart/Grieving for The Writing Corner Bingo Challenge

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