Jade Fern Grove his heart was trapped in a cage

his second mouthful of moss chewed he sets to work applying it beside the first application, careful to press the salve into her wound with enough pressure for it to stay without risking applying enough pressure to hurt her — though mild discomfort from application couldn't entirely be avoided, if the nerves weren't entirely dead though her previous admittance that she couldn't feel it would suggest that they were. he moves his head to examine her own chewed up mass of moss she deposits on the ground, inspecting it clinically. perfect. he compliments as he scoops it up and sets to work applying it aside the other two.

her help is both appreciated and allows brisbane to get the wound addressed in a more timely manner than if he'd been making the salve on his own and when he's finished he takes a step back to both give her some space and assess his work. alright, he draws on a breath, moving so that he is facing her once more. i've patched it up the best i can do, but i'm no healer. you should really try to find one to take a more in-depth look at that. he suggests regardless. i'm brisbane, by the way. he offers, realizing that he's been so focused on her wound that he'd never offered her his name.