Jade Fern Grove I tried.

Another Kvarsheim wolf. Kel nodded distantly, but all of his focus was for the wounded man. He smelled of Swiftcurrent Creek. The healer tensed but said nothing of it. He gave quiet directions to Germanicus and Gunnar, sending them each in search of different herbs he would need. No point in waiting for another healer; they needed to work quickly. If Kel couldn't save him, then he was already dead.

He didn't let himself wish for Doedapple. He didn't let himself worry. Kestrelcloud gave himself wholly over to his work, something more straightforward than what he was used to but somehow infinitely more obscure. It was all gentle paws and detachment, eyes on the bloody details, not thinking about how he had come by these wounds or how close to death he was now. The wounds at his throat were of most concern, so he focused there first. The rest could wait.