The Heartwood i'm not a complete wretch, i fetch

It was another wolf, though he didn’t seem too keen on socializing. Bridget wasn’t offended and would have happily let him ignore her and move on if she hadn’t spotted the injuries stretched across his hips.

Oh, hey. Those don’t look too good. I can help, if you want. She took a step towards him, gesturing obviously at the wounds as she spoke, but didn’t go any further. The shift to friendly professionalism was abrupt, but she wouldn’t treat him if he declined her help. She never pressed her services on the unwilling unless things were so dire that she had no choice.