Helpless Reality

Jennie didn't dally and quickly opened the small bottle. A piece of paper was written on the cap with words that say: Bleeding Salve.

She scooped the greenish-red paste with two fingers and applied it on top of the cut wound.

The mutated dog trembled every time she applied the ointment, but it never pulled away nor created noise. It silently endured the stinging sensation coming from the treated wound.

Jennie bit her lips furiously when she realized that the vertical cut was at least one foot long and a few inches deep. It was also around the foreleg portion which prevented the mutated dog from placing the injured leg down.

If it chose to use its injured leg, the pressure from its body weight would hasten the opening of the wound and would cause much severe bleeding.

She etched those two vulgar faces (for her) in her memory and swore that she would teach them a lesson.