Pride of the Veld

half-crouched, hands held out in the universal sign of peace. He wore a camera slung across the chest of a khaki field vest, his chambray shirt hanging half-open, though one rolled up sleeve sported a large tear across the upper arm. Geo could see the fabric was stiff and stained dark around the rip, as though the wound had only recently stopped bleeding. He continued his survey, noting the olive skin of the man’s long, long legs sprouting out of a pair of cargo shorts. Nothing about this man screamed dangerous to Geo. He moved to Danie’s side.
    “Danie,” Geo asked again, touching his back, soothing the warm skin in a gentle circle with his fingertips, “Who’s this?” He gestured towards the other man, waving the shorts in his hand. With a recognizable hiss of impatience, Danie pulled him back, letting the shorts drop to the ground.
    “Geo, stay back please.” Danie’s accent was thicker, a sure sign that he was stressed, so Geo resisted the urge to pick up the shorts and help Danie into them as he held the weapon. They were now moving into theater-of-the-absurd territory, and Geo wasn’t sure he wanted to be the one to upset the tenuous balance between these two men locked in a staring battle with one another.
    Finally the other man swayed, breaking eye contact with Danie before dropping to his knees. It was enough to send Geo into action. Ignoring Danie’s growl of “Stop dammit, Geo!” he pushed past, moving quickly across the dry ground between them, and reaching the other man just as he collapsed. He found himself in a tangle of limbs, gazing into frightened brown eyes, wide with panic and pain. Geo’s heart clenched as the man shook in his arms.
    “Danie, we need the kit, and that bottle of Coke in my bag… and put some damn pants on― eh?” He frowned at the man, still standing there unrepentantly naked, fixing them both with his best glare. “Stop growling and move!” he went on. “You’re scaring the poor thing.” Geo was probably smaller than the man with the camera if you stretched him out properly. But for now he reminded Geo of an injured rabbit, almost frantic in terror, unable to recognize help when it was offered to him. Geo would have to work with that. He stroked a hand along the uninjured arm, trying to calm and focus the man who was muttering to himself in unintelligible Italian.
    “Shush, you’re safe, you’re safe now. I’m Geo, and the cranky naked guy here is Danie.” He glared up at the man in question. Danie stood stock still, ignoring Geo’s commands for the moment.
    “Geo…”
    “Later, Danie― he’s going into shock. I need you to trust me… no… wait! Just help me get him up and into the tent. He’s freezing. Everything’s in there anyway.”
    Between the two of them they managed to lever him up and carry him into their tent, finally settling him onto their bedrolls. Danie rummaged around in Geo’s pack until he came up with a couple of bottles of Coke, watching Geo carefully remove the man’s shoes and socks before tucking the feet under the covers. Geo checked the long limbs carefully, tugging the shirt open to pull it away from the injured arm.
    It was quite an ugly gash, the flesh torn and gouged rather than sliced. It was going to need stitches to close properly and would leave a nasty scar. Well, Geo’s doctoring was definitely going to leave a nasty scar. The shirt was a dead loss.
    “Hey, I need to take care of your arm now; it can’t wait, I think. I need you to relax and drink some soda. You need some sugar in your system. So, while Danie gets that, I’m going to cut your shirt off so I don’t hurt you more than I have to. Okay?”
    The man gave a brief, sharp nod. He kept his gaze fixed on Danie; the larger man clearly still worried him.
    “Look, Danie is just a little over-protective out here. You gave us a bit of a scare…” Geo trailed off as the man’s eyes closed briefly and his muscles started to relax. There wasn’t going to be a better time for this. He pulled out his folding knife, clicking the blade into place. The tip of the blade lifted the blue shirt away from the rich olive skin, already a little pale in the swaying light of the camp lantern. A quick flick and Geo had the sleeve opened up to the wrist.
    He was able to tear it the rest of the way, leaving the arm exposed below the cut. He repeated the action until neatly separating the sleeve from the shirt. Danie was now crouching next to him with a bowl of