when the moon fell in love with the sun

"Well they bother me." The woman's tone was still panicked. She was almost in a state of shock. As she removed the necessary items from her bag, Deathbelle offered to help her in return. Iolaire's nose wrinkled and she fought a growl. Was this funny to her? Had she not already said that she didn't want to be seen? "No. I don't want you to look at me." She would tend to her own wounds once she was near some water so that she might see the horrific damage done. Belle wouldn't be touching them.

Careful to keep her face in shadow, her chin tucked, Iolaire set about cleaning Belle's wounds. She worked the deepest of them first, careful to rid them of any clinging dirt and debris. Once done, she placed cats claw, yarrow, turmeric and a few other herbs within the small dish that she kept within her bag. The yarrow root, she chewed, masticating the bitter herb between her teeth. Saliva would begin to break down the root and would allow the other items to be mixed in properly. Once the herbs were mashed into a paste, Iolaire added a dollop of honey which would act as an antimicrobial, antibacterial layer. She placed a bit of the concoction upon each wound, whether it be a tear, a small puncture from a tooth, or a mild abrasion. No matter her state of mind, Io was good at what she did.