Deepwood Weald Oh, and she never gives out

Alaric was moving to the beat of his own drum, when he came across a younger female. She had some face wounds and was dipping herself into the ice cold water. He was glad she was wanting to keep it clean, but also worried. She could make herself sick doing that. So he chuffed.

He moved closer, long athletic body moving through the trees easily. He stopped feet away from her, and held up paws placating. 

Hiya. I'm Alaric. I'm a healer and a story teller. I can help you with those wounds if you'd like. 

He moved a paw to the fur pouch he had wrapped around his throat. He untucked it and lay it to the ground, unrolling it with a flick of a paw.

He pointed at different herbs. Thyme for infection, aloe to keep it staedy. I'd prefer honey, but unfortunately fresh out of bee hives.

He smiled easy and kind at the last part. Put some cobwebs on top and it all works out.