Ravensblood Forest and iron filling her lungs

Her eyes go wide when he stoops to nose the water over her wound. 
"Don't." She presses softly, pushing him away. "Servants do that. You aren't my servant. You're my equal. Until we have servants, I can nurse my own wounds, as much as I hate it." Theres none of the usual prissiness in her voice. A bit of coldness but at this point it's just part of her normal tone. She stubbornly shifts away, rolling onto her side and resting her head on the bank to avoid drowning. Small fish in the shallows nibbled at her torn flesh, to help it heal faster. 
He explained his plight, and she frowned. She thankfully hadn't much experience with humans, other than the one member of her pack who showed up with a strange tag on his ear and a story of being abducted. They had killed him to avoid being found, and for being weak enough to be captured. They sounded evil. "We will find these humans someday. And we will slaughter every last one. And leave their carcasses for the coyotes." It was an akward attempt at comfort and solidarity.