Bearclaw Valley snake oil

There we go, Evien thinks fondly at the little scoff he gets in return for his efforts. That was more like it. Part of being a doctor meant ensuring the comfort of their patients as well as physical ailments. Part of being Evien was making sure Fields wasn't too wrapped up in fear and self-loathing. The two elements went hand-in-hand, he found.

To his credit, Fields didn't flinch away when Evien pressed the chewed-up mess of herb into the wound. Instead, he asked about it, and it brought a smile to the brown wolf's face. 

"Mhm. They're not quite ripe yet, but it's the best we have. The little fruits are still green." It still produced the right antibodies, but not as much as if it were fully ripened. "They'll be ripe later this year, in the summer. They're more effective then." 

Finished, Evien stepped back and made sure that the ear was entirely coated before he padded over and settled down in front of Fields again, green eyes scanning over the other boy's face. There was still blood on his muzzle. "Do you think you can look at me now?" he urged.