You could be my silver spring

Reaper spat out the mixture of the bitter herbs on his paw. He slowly stood up, careful not to disturb Mae too much as she seemed quite content in the position she was in. He carried the paste in one paw and hobbled over to where Mae's wounds were. He set the paste down and began to put them on the wounds, checking in to make sure he wasn't applying too much pressure. "Is this ok? Am I doing it right?" He asked Mae, for she had far more medical experience than he did. He waited patiently for her to answer. "You should take those herbs for your head. I fear your concussion may worsen if you don't." He encouraged her, leaning over to push the herbs closer to her once more. "Don't make me feed you like a baby bird." He teased lightly, given how much birds seemed to like him he thought it was a proper jest.