Stavanger Bay I. The flames climbed in to the clouds.

she did not so much as smile in pleasure, even though she got what she wanted. having accepted her help out of, perhaps, desperation the man sat before her now. Huntington had waited until he made his mind up. she was always willing to boaster her skill further with practice. this was not out of the kindness of her heart. this was merely an opportunity. he did not speak to her. mayhap unwilling to form a connection with the woman or was unable to communicate. either way, she shifted a bit closer to look at the wound. 

it was healing on its own, as nature intended, yet she could still do some things for it. her eyes drifted away from the blood to find a plant she knew immediately. balsamorhiza, commonly known as balsamroot. a rare find in the winter. she plucked it from the ground, leaning over to do so, and dropped it at her paws. cracking it, she discovered a good supply of the sticky sap. her eyes returned to his. "I am going to apply this to your wound. it will prevent infection" she told him, before dropping her skull to the flower and rolling her free paw in it. "yet you must clean it, best you can, before I do so."

there was little a plant could do over a dirty wound, after all. she patiently waited for him to do as he was told. or if he even would.