Warja arrived with plants in tow. Her father hadn't been specific in his needs, so the young medic had brought a sampling of the wound care basics; if the wolf in need had been sick, they probably wound have been brought to her and not the other way around. That was her reasoning, anyway.
Surprise momentarily slowed her steps as she realized that the one needing her care wasn't part of Secretua. Warja eyed the wounded stranger, casting an assessing gaze across the femme. The healer side of her assessed her well being while the reclusive, stranger-hating side of her picked apart the loner and questioned her presence.
Stopping before the stranger, Warja gently placed the herbs on the ground. Her gaze briefly flicked to her father, the gesture a voiceless query about the situation, and then the young medic's attention turned to the loner. "My name's Warja, I'm a healer. What's your name?" She moved towards the fae's injured shoulder, keeping a respectful distance all the while scrutinizing the wound. "Is it alright if I take a look at it?" She wished to dive right in, but getting consent from the loner had to come first, even if it was just a formality. Making the fae comfortable with her presence, while not a requirement in her chosen field, went hand in hand with it.
