Bramblepoint give me that vertigo

Genie, naturally, ignored his grumble. She'd dealt with a lot of patients in her life, and every single one of them had moaned and grumbled and protested, some of them screamed. There had been worse cases than this boy, and she'd done well on all of them, so the yearling was pretty sure that this would be over rather quickly. Hopefully. Some patients were worse than others. Genie only hoped that he wasn't one of them. He was too pretty to be a wimp. Hopefully.

Genie fought back a smile at his pain. It wasn't what it sounded like. She thought he was cute, even when he seemed as if he was dying. Deciding that perhaps, this time, she wouldn't prolong the pain too much, she concentrated on the matter at hand, rather than the person. Genie could see the thorn a bit more clearly now. Her eyes narrowed in concentration and carefully, she tugged at it. That probably hurt a lot. 

Genie decided not to spare the patient a glance. It might soften her resolve. Instead, she blinked, then with a certain sort of practiced ease, pulled the entire thorn out. 

The chocolate furred fae straightened, spat the thorn out on the ground and flashed the boy a small smile. "Don't worry," she said, as if hoping to restore some of the masculinity that the handsome wolf might have thought he'd lost. He hadn't, not really, but she bet he thought he did. "I think you're cute," Genie reassured, with something like a shy smile adorning her lips.