Blackfoot Forest The Butterfly Blooms

There came another as she leaned over the male, her gaze flickering to him, not failing to notice the limb. This one did not hold her attention in the way the unearthly male had, and she moved back to tend him when he gave his permission. Carefully, the witch poked her muzzle to his forehead, finding him warm but not yet alarmingly so. Their gratitude seemed undeserved; she'd done nothing but arrive and begin her inspection of the badly injured male. Withdrawing, she moved down the length of his body towards the wound that seemed the worst off. 

Without pause did the witch began to clean the wound tenderly, the reek of infection having no effect on her impassive form. When she'd done all she could to remove the debris from it; she moved to the little pile of herbs, not neglecting to notice the boy's gaze tracking her. Plucking from the snow the darker leaves, she placed them by the maw of the male. "borage. it will help with the fever, if it develops." She explained, gesturing for the male to eat the leaves. "they are bitter,"  She warned briefly before carefully selecting the chervil root, crushing it betwixt her jaws and moving back towards the male's side, carefully placing the poultice on the wound. 

"chervil root - for infection."  She murmured, before adding to the wounds that still oozed a poultice of oak, "for bleeding and infection," She explained, dark gaze resting on the males face a moment. "be still a moment,"  She muttered, before her gaze shifted to the male who seemed to be in better health. Her gaze shifted to his leg and his shoulder, and again she asked, "may I tend to you, Lennon?" She asked, gaze shifting once to the male who remained nameless (somewhat annoying) to ensure he lay in the snow still.