The private car hit the motorcycle, sending it flying, with debris scattered all over.
A security guard from the nearby Brocade River Community ran over, "Are you both okay?"
Lorraine Hughes snapped out of her shock, "Please call 120 and the police, thank you."
Her voice was a bit shaky as she spoke.
She couldn't ignore Nathan Bolton's face growing paler and the crimson on his hand.
Yet the man in front of her seemed unfazed, instead comforting her, "Scared? I'm fine, it's just a shame about the crayfish..."
A strange emotion spread to Lorraine's heart, leaving her momentarily speechless.
"It just looks scary; it doesn't hurt at all, don't be afraid."
"I'm not afraid." Lorraine suspected he forgot she was a medic.
"Your voice is trembling."
"The wind is too cold, I'm cold." Lorraine finished speaking, tore the hem of her large T-shirt, and swiftly bandaged Nathan Bolton to stop the bleeding.
