Jade Fern Grove Command me to be well

Andalusia was a healer only by necessity, an outrider with the skill to heal herself of ailments she faced on the road. What she knew she had gathered from fellow sojourners, and not usually from ones formally trained. Yet unless the grizzled greyscale was a healer himself, what they offered together would have to do. Neither wolf appeared a threat (and one could hardly be one even if he'd tried), and when the grizzled man sent her for cobwebs, Andalusia jerked a sharp nod before turning to the woods.

Her movement felt jittery as she hustled through the throng of trees. A number of branches littered the ground, and she snuffed around until she uncovered a sizeable one half-hidden amongst a cover of debirs. Like the greyscale, Andalusia clasped her jaws around the wood and began to gather every cobweb and silken strand she could find. Webbing, to stop the bleeding. Andalusia hadn't been close enough to see the extent of the injured one's wounds, but better to gather plenty than to come up short. The wildfire fell to the recesses of her mind, and after gathering what she deemed a sufficient supply of cobweb, Andalusia rushed back to the snaking river where the wounded one lay.

She jammed her stick into the ground beside the greyscale's and turned to pass a sharp look over the injured. "How deep are his wounds?" He seemed to bleed from all over. Whoever had attacked him had done so to kill, and she hoped they were right in saving him now. "Has any infection set in?" The greyscale seemed to have a firm grip on cleaning the wounds, so Andalusia stepped to the wounded's other side and stretched her muzzle forward to check for fever.