Noctisardor Bypass tell me lies, tell me painted truths

mahler did not know how to answer laurel;
he was fiercely, horrendously grateful for sequoia's presence there with them. he gathered his things and returned to her side. "vith ursus," he said hoarsely, refusing to lie or smooth words. they had been raided. they had been wounded. the red child had been taken. mahler began to paint the worst of her lacerations with his poultice.
"lie still. you can do nothing if your vounds set into fever." pragmatism would guide him. he was thankful that sequoia had hidden with witch, though her teeth might have turned the tide for indra.
but there was no blame, not truly. 
he closed his eyes for a moment and sat back against the snowy side of the pharmacy. gut roiled with bloodloss and his own sensation of choking anger. "ve must count the others. regroup. duskfire vill be safe."
and then he was back with laurel once more, layering more chewed herbs upon her bloodied flesh and willing his own grief to stay at bay as long as it was able.