The Sentinels heart in hand

The sight and sounds tugged gently at her heartstrings, but she was a hard wolf, and composed. Lucani did not know Constantine, but it seemed from Deirdre's reaction to him that he was family. His scent would probably say likewise, but it was currently overpowered by the smell of infection, which had struck the healer urgently. As a wolf in need he had her care, as a wolf of Donnelaith he had her attention, and as a wolf of Lasher's family he had her devotion.

It's infected, she barely had to dip her nose to his wound. Her spirit waned at the sight of it, for there were no herbs; no quick and easy remedies, and infections were tricky at the best of times. I'm going to find your coconut and bring him some water, she told Deirdre. In lieu of moss, the little druid's find had been a livesaver. Speak to him, my young friend, she advised quietly before she left the scene with smooth urgency.

For Deirdre's very presence would have healing qualities. It would either keep him in a state of wistful life, or drift him into a state of peaceful death.