Using my elbow to push down the handle to my workshop, I pushed the door open before shutting it behind me with my foot, as I quickly began to walk through the workspace, quickly passing by the massive library of tools and parts, the walls lined with unfinished projects, blueprints for both future and current projects, and boxes of materials, as I pushed open the swinging door to my habitation, walking through the kitchen, before turning off to the side into the small attached living room, a small room, decorated with paintings of the surrounding landscape I had made in my boredom, and sporting a large glass window looking out over the frozen river below, as I gently placed the injured figure down on a large couch bed facing said window that I used while waiting for my food to finish, a bit sad to ruin the sheets, I knew they would be easy to clean and replace, the pelts of the magical creatures I hunted displaying many special properties, including most having hydrophobic properties, and being incredibly simple to clean.

Satisfied they won’t die in the time it takes me to collect supplies, I took a quick trip around my workshop, collecting any tools and supplies that may be used to help treat my patient, while simultaneously cursing my lack of medicine.

My immune system was far far superior to anything I had on earth, and I recovered exceptionally fast from wounds, so simply put, medicine fabrication was low on my list of priorities. This didn’t mean I couldn’t make the required chemicals, as I had a stockpile of a variety of chemicals and chemistry tools from my other projects, but without dedicated tools and machines for production, I would be limited in its quantity and purity.

Returning to the couchside, I brought over a table and chair, as I placed all of my collected supplies such as alcohol, needles, strings, bandages, clips, candles, syringes, etc, before placing a large pot of water on the stove to boil and putting all the tools inside, and getting to work.

Pulling off their clothes after a bit of struggle, their dried blood making the cloth stick to their skin, I briefly inspected the woman before me.

Now wearing nothing but their underwear, I briefly inspected their body for injuries, finding nothing of note but the large gash in their shoulder. It was of considerable depth, even slightly piercing out the front it seemed to be a relatively clean cut, although the absolute horror of dried blood surrounding it made it impossible to fully diagnose, the rest of their visible injuries were superficial, and could be dealt with later.

Their pulse suggested no internal injuries, as it was nothing different from what you would expect from someone suffering from blood loss.

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For now, stopping the bleeding came first and foremost, and I went to grab the pot from the stove after leaving it to boil for a few minutes, removing all the tools and placing them on a alcohol sanitized plater before dumping a towel into the still boiling water, my new body undisturbed by the high temperature, as I pulled it from the water and wrung most of the water out before waiting for it to cool a few moments, and beginning to clean the wound.

A few minutes later, the pot lay to my side on the floor, the previously clear water replaced with a blood red, and I re inspected the wound.

Now no longer obscured by blood and gore, I saw that it was a surprisingly clean cut, with minimal tearing in and around the wound, it seemed my patient was quite lucky.

It was a deep cut, about 5cm wide, it entered directly below her shoulder, traveling up and exiting directly below her clavicle, any lower and it could have potentially pierced her chest cavity and caused severe damage, as is it was contained to little more than muscle damage, meaning other than the dangers of infection and blood loss, this was a relatively non dangerous wound. Luckily, it showed no signs of necrosis, meaning I got to it before infection set in, and healing a wound with dead tissue is far harder than when it is still healthy.

Quickly pouring some 90% alcohol into the wound to clean and disinfect it, I filled a small bowl with the liquid before grabbing a curved needle and holding it in a candle flame for a few moments, before soaking both it and the string, -made from a river plant, that produces incredibly long, durable, elastic string like roots which it coils around one another to make thicker strings which it then floats in the water to collect nutrients, conveniently perfect for stitches.- in the alcohol for a few moments, and getting to work.

Deliberately using digestible strings for stitches so her body could break it down later and not require an invasive surgical procedure to remove, I quickly began the slow and tedious process of sowing together arteries, blood vessels, nerves, tendons, and muscles as I slowly make my way up from the bottom of the wound, periodically disinfecting and cleaning the wound with more alcohol as I went in an effort to prevent sepsis, and draining the wound as I went, and I could only thank the gods my patient remained unconscious considering the highly invasive and unanesthetized nature of this operation.

9 hours later I was done, and I wrapped the wound in a boiled and alcohol soaked bandage, before cleaning, disinfecting, and wrapping her remaining wounds, before stepping back and doing a quick inspection. Finally actually looking at her instead of her wounds. She was a young, likely no older than 20, crimson haired woman standing at an impressive 215cm, much smaller than my own 250, with large Foxlike ears, and a fluffy tail, both just as red as her hair. Before, after redressing her in some simple clothing I had laying around that was far to large for her. I walked away satisfied I had addressed all the damage I could, and went to see if I could synthesize any antibiotics to reduce risk of sepsis or infection.