Blackfoot Forest The Butterfly Blooms

The witch did not miss the easy affection between the male and the girl, but elected to ignore it as Alarian began to speak. "alarian.", echoed the witch, her accent adding different depths to the novel-sounding name. Her muzzle twisted into the ghost of a rare smile, replying after a beat. "I am Thelxiope,"  She looked at him a beat longer before striding towards Lennon, stretching carefully to nose at the deep gash on his limb. Tendons and muscles may or may not be ripped; but either way, the wound was not much better off than Alarian's. 

She moved to apply the horsetail and goosegrass, scanning the wound critically. "this may take longer to heal. I do not know how deep the damage stretches, but you must keep it clean and rested."  She instructed with greater effort to rid the accent from her voice, shifting atop her bloodied ankles as they began to twinge. "how is your pain?" She asked, but her gaze slipped too to Alarian, remembering the more powerful poppy the girl had provided. Her gaze slipped next to his shoulder, but it did not seem quite as bad as his leg. The wounds seemed fresh, however, and the pain may plague them still.