"Huh." Fraser stared at the now-prone Turnbull for several moments. Somewhat at a loss, he watched mutely as Ray went and poked him. "I... yes." He shook his head. "He's... well." Most of the people who were sent to the Chicago Consulate were sent there for a reason. Fraser had wondered once before (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1394264.html?thread=71485272#t71485272) what Turnbull had done to get sent there, though he'd never actually asked... but honestly, the possibilities seemed endless.
He joined Ray at the body, crouching down to check on Turnbull's vitals. "We'd better get him into the tent. I have some smelling salts, or-- well, something similar, at least-- in my Sam Browne, but I have to fish it out of my bag." It was actually made of cedar sap, secretions from a local variety of nightcrawler and a particularly pungent kind of toadstool, but he thought Ray might really not want to hear about that.
"Come on, Ray, give me a hand." He swung his bag down off his shoulder and set it carefully on Turnbull's stomach; which freed up his arms so that he could slide them under Turnbull's shoulders, lifting the other mountie halfway off the ground. "Would you mind getting his legs?"
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He joined Ray at the body, crouching down to check on Turnbull's vitals. "We'd better get him into the tent. I have some smelling salts, or-- well, something similar, at least-- in my Sam Browne, but I have to fish it out of my bag." It was actually made of cedar sap, secretions from a local variety of nightcrawler and a particularly pungent kind of toadstool, but he thought Ray might really not want to hear about that.
"Come on, Ray, give me a hand." He swung his bag down off his shoulder and set it carefully on Turnbull's stomach; which freed up his arms so that he could slide them under Turnbull's shoulders, lifting the other mountie halfway off the ground. "Would you mind getting his legs?"