Jade Fern Grove all that remains of you is a crackle of your energy

She says it's bloodloss. He knows that's not the core of his problems. Not that it would matter stating why. She is transient just as he is. Their circles might never cross after today so strangers they remain.

He perks up at the mention of cleaning his wounds. Surprising. She does not look like a healer. Quite the opposite, in fact. Looks can be deceiving and she's got that down in spades. His fatigue yields, interest showing in the bright of his eyes. Does she mean clean by tongue or clean by plants?

Will you? He coyly invites.

The wounds on his face and chest will likely not catch an infection. The cut on his arm, however, is bothersome. It feels enflamed. He presents it to her, twisting in his seat.

I fear this one already festers. Why else would it throb? It must be an infection.