The Sunspire Patch Adams

her brow arched a fraction, the only sign of her discontent as the woman made to guard fast her stash. the praise was met only with an upturn of her paw, under which a gash split the pawpad. he'd cleaned it carefully, but the edges remained raw and puckered. "I know." still, the conversation may have gone well were it not for the petite healer's next words, which had something shadowed cross her gaze. 

"my secret's out, medic."  she interpreted the words as an attempt to gain leverage over her. the healer's countenance, her personality, had made the girl uncomfortable for reasons she did not know, and here must be the reason.  her mouth remained set in a firm line, though she was still until the woman finished her explanation, committing the unknown herbs, their appearance and use, to memory. a large part of her wished to refuse treatment by the woman, and any part of her that may have appeared open was now withdrawn and cold. still, she motioned towards the herbs. "just the horsetail, and the nettle." she'd find the marigold for her paw later, and the other two herbs if the woman refused to treat her now. the celandine could be useful, but the wound didn't merit all the painkillers the woman offered. her gaze was hard, and only the knowledge that the wound required the assistance of another to treat kept her from doing something (possibly) regretable.