Frying Pans are for...

She cleaned the wound thoroughly, quickly planning as she did what she could manage as far as a bandage for the foreleg. That would be easy - the shoulder wouldn't be, because it would be difficult to keep a bandage on there where she couldn't wrap it. She could wrap it all the way around over his shoulders and the front of his chest, but somehow she couldn't see this male putting up with that for long. If she covered it really well with lambs-ear first though, she could plaster it with clay - but she didn't have clay.

Caught up in that dilema, she was startled when a weight suddenly rested on her head. She froze, her breath catching in her chest, realizing that he'd rested his head upon hers. She felt her heart flutter at the warmth of the male's touch but quickly chided herself. He wasn't showing her affection, he was falling asleep! Though her reminder to herself resulted only in a drop in her spirits.

Carefully, trying not to wake him from his doze if that was indeed what he was doing, she pulled her pack towards her and pulled out a corked jar she'd taken from the den in Abaven's lands. It was a rinse that would cleanse the wound of any possible infection started, though she knew it would sting a little. No worse than the scrape of her tongue over the wound, though. She poured it over the wound, then set it aside with the cork loosely plugging it.

She cleared her throat, though the last thing she wanted to do was to make him move. Her skin felt warm and tingled where his chin rested. "I need to see to your shoulder," she told him, and was shocked to hear that her voice and gone low and husky, almost but not quite like it would have if she'd been crying. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I need to clean it and rinse it while your leg dries."