Patch me up

Rhazien's returned joke elicited a subtle quirk of Caedes's lips, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "That's quite fitting for you, Uncle. Perhaps consider a muzzle for next time." Banter. Easy and after all, Caedes was no stranger to the antics of Rhazien, well aware of his proclivities. Briefly, the scarred brute's mind drifted to Mariah, thinking of how he would have to muzzle himself if he went much longer without meeting her...

Caedes's attention flickered back into focusing on the task at hand as he tended to the wound, his movements deliberate and precise. From his satchel, he retrieved a bundle of herbs, their purpose for inflammation and infection. Carefully he began to grind them up, mixing them within a low lipped stone pot, mashing them together and setting them aside. Then he retrieved a piece of cloth from his bag, damp already, and pressed it carefully to the wound to begin cleaning it. His touch was gentle, his expression betraying none of the complex thoughts swirling within his mind.