“Nara,” the wounded hunter said. “Nara Senn.”
Tessa repeated it so the emergency operator could hear. Eli knew the name. He had seen it on veteran assignments and heard younger hunters argue over accounts of her work. None of that history altered the warmth of the dressing under his hands.
“Nara, I’m Tessa. Eli is holding pressure. Sera’s getting the approach ready. Help is coming.”
“How far?”
“We’re checking the route.”
Tessa did not invent a travel time. The first ambulance had been directed toward the old river stop before the operator registered the morning closure. Sera was correcting the approach, giving landmarks a driver could actually see. The district’s damaged lanes and changed pedestrian access made a short distance something other than a quick journey.
Nara turned her head toward the ramp. Her eyes moved along the retaining wall, then back to Tessa.
“Don’t move me like that.”
