Whitebark Stream i only listen to the wind when it's crying

Xahi gave a soft smile as the other spoke, and she moved forwards in response. As the girl looked over the wound, she pondered how she could help. It was then that this new woman inquired something of her. "Kind of," she began, "my group is traveling to our new home, we've stopped here for a rest. Are you from here?" The young woman finished analyzing the cut and ventured away for a moment. She snuffed around curiously in the grass before coming upon what she was waiting for. Plucking the bright colored flower from it's spot, she trotted back over to the other. The marigold was small, puny even, (as to be expected in such weather), but Xahi could make use of it. The girl lowered herself and licked gently at the wounds to clean them before turning back to her flower. She chewed its petals into a poultice of sorts, cringing slightly at the taste, and pasted it as best she could onto the woman's largest wound. Ezimette had taught her that trick, and she was oh-so-grateful for that now. She then behan to tend to the other smaller wounds, gingerly cleaning them to help this stranger out.