Shadowwyn Moor that blackness called night

Logical!? She bristled as he continued. He fought a lot? He was using it on himself? Logic was going to get himself killed. Flawed as it was. "Well unless you're bleeding to death semi-frequently you have far better options than goldenrod. Bit extreme, don't you think?" Goldenrod was an amazing cure-all but at a price. The stuff was highly allergenic and most wolves she treated tended to develop adverse reactions to it after multiple treatments. Now she only used goldenrod for drastic measures. He seemed to suggest he was using it willy-nilly.

"Either you're a terrible fighter or you don't know shit about what you're doing. There's logic for you!" She huffed. Wolves. So many of them thought they knew what they were doing, but when it came right down to it they were a downright insult to her profession. She'd caught so many just frivolously trying this that or the other thing and hoping it worked. Him? He thought himself a healer. Ha! Hardly.

"Too?" she'd caught the subtly of that statement. He'd suggested he was something of a healer. "If what you're up to is considered within the realm of healing..? Then I'm the goddamn miracle worker." Seriously. She could do way better than that.