Blackfeather Woods and what price will you pay?

Rowan couldn't tell where his unease sprang from.
From being vulnerable, or the woods, or Rowan himself claiming to be a Blackfeather? Unlikely the last, otherwise he probably wouldn't still be sitting there.

A bite to the shoulder - easily infected, makes it harder to move, and the proximity to the heart and vital points in the neck surely made it worse. As far as Rowan could know.
"I'm not trained by any means, but I can patch you up well enough." He gave Reyes an apologetic quirk of the lips.
Now, he wanted to see how bad it was. He knew that if it smelled stronger it was worse, like when he treated Taikon.

He brought his nose close, but not close enough for his breath to touch the mud as he inhaled the scent. The mud covered the scent with its thick earthiness, but there, Rowan managed to pick out the thread of infection. A festering, heavy scent.
The wound needed cleaning, he'd have to help him to the eastern side of the woods where the creek trickled in.
Wash the mud off rather than pulling it.

He pulled back before giving his verdict.
"We'll have to get you to the creek and wash that mud off and get the wound clean. I'll look for herbs while you make sure you get all the mud out. Sound good?"