Blackfeather Woods watercolor melon

She asked him why he wanted to know all of these things, and Ovaltine reclined, settling on his haunches to answer. "The more I know about how our bodies deal with injury, the easier it is for me to treat those that are injured," he replied. Ovaltine was no deceiver, though he could lie in a pinch if his life depended upon it. Most of the time, however, there was no need for him to put on a façade. Life was easier without the complications that lies brought. Oval wondered, for a moment, if anybody had asked her about her handicap. Perhaps they had felt she would be offended.

"Did anybody tend to your wound, miss?" he asked. He wondered what their course of action had been. Had they given her some variety of plants to help soothe the pain? Had they merely cleaned the wound to hold off infection? Was it something about their methods that had caused the loss of her eye? There were more questions he had for her caretaker, and he did not know if they would be answered (now or later).