Bramblepoint yesterworld

Her eyes remained on his face for a few beats as she -- like he -- calculated how much he could be trusted. While he would be in a far more vulnerable position than she, he could still do serious damage to her if he decided to turn on her while she was working. It only took her two or three seconds before her mind was made up, though. Raven had never been one to question the integrity of a wolf or, based on it, whether he or she was worthy of her attention and skill.

She eased closer to him and gently, so gently, began to clean his wound with her tongue. She could feel the tension in him, and did her best to be light and gentle. Her soft tongue brushed away dirt and debris, cleansing the dried blood and hair until only clean flesh remained, a livid red slash in the downy white fur. The bleeding had slowed a little, but not by much, so she worked quickly. "Okay, I'm going to make a poultice -- a thick paste -- with these plants. They'll help stop the bleeding and stave off infection so your body can heal the wound more quickly." She set about it, chewing plants until they were a thick, sharp-smelling mash held together by saliva. She turned back to her patient and warned, "This might hurt. I'll try to make it quick. Don't bite me." That last part she said with a grin, only half-joking. He had bled more, so she cleaned that up quickly and then, as gently as she could, stuffed the wad of medicine into his wound, using her tongue to pack it in tightly so it wouldn't fall out as soon as he moved. When she was satisfied that it was secure, she stepped back and looked back to his face again.