Herbalists' Cache If I could, begin to be

I marked this particular post for mature just incase because "minor gross detailed wound treatment stuff" lmao. Let me know if you want me to edit anything out.

Cynefrid went to work quickly and gathered the herbs needed to begin his healing process. The pus fluids and blood that would have seeped out of any fresh burn wound seemed to already dry out and scab over. It was aged — thankfully healing  properly on it's own, but still needed to be manually cleaned if she wanted to prevent any future infections. She'd lower her head to where the injury was and gently begin licking at it, scrunching her muzzle at the metallic tang of dried blood. It was not a pleasant taste on the tounge and an alternative would be to allow Calhoun to dip himself in water instead, but Cyne didn't wish to send him off just for her sake. She had a job to do.

After the doe was satisfied with the way it looked so far, she'd start gathering a bunch of nettle leaves hidden in the grasses to chew up into a paste — hopefully it would help prevent infection. Ears were lent while she worked with busy paws at the mention of his family. It would appear as if Corliss had not returned yet, which worried her, and that Zephrine and Osmond had sadly succumbed to their injuries. Hearing this made the doe freeze and look away in dissapointment — maybe she was wrong, the high elk didn't wish for everyone to escape to safety. "I'm sorry for your parents, Calhoun. And while I don't know of your sister's whereabouts, I'm sure she'll appear sooner or later...."