Haunted Wood you can't go back to constantinople

Honestly, Clarence had hardly noticed the other guy, but he was familiar. The rude one he'd met in the meadow. "I won't tell anyone," he assured, turning his attention back to the taller wolf's torn ear. The piebald wolf scooted up closer to the Warlord and leaned in, rasping his tongue over the injury. He was careful and thorough, assuring that he was being gentle enough to not damage the wound further. 

"Does it hurt?" he asked, voice hushed. Valour was considered to be a friend, and he certainly didn't want to make it worse.

He wouldn't stop licking until the bleeding slowed, then looked back at the herbs. So, he had to chew those up, right? The boy picked them up in his mouth and chewed them up, wincing at the taste.