malpractice is still worth healing points

The wolfdog was just returning to the treehouse after sorting her cache of herbs. She needed more dandelion from where she had placed it drying under the rafters. Her voice was quietly melodic as she sang to herself,  

"The selkie sits on solemn sands, her hair a curtain wet. She sings-" But stopped as she got within earshot and saw one of the yearlings calling out to Dread, that was when the sharp copper smell of blood reached her the same instance she saw him.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed warmly approaching him from the other side of the tree, "I don't think he'll be much help here. Besides, he's a bit busy just now. I can get that cut over your brow fixed up." She offered with a swish of her cascading tail.