The fae growled and swore, a response that should have earned Warja's noticeable ire, but given the circumstances, the young medic kept her features neutral. "What happened?" She edged closer to the wound, her eyes taking in the red, swollen skin. Infection.
Working quickly, Warja chose the herbs she thought would provide the fastest comfort. No pus or other discharge leaked from the gash so she was reluctant to apply pressure to its sides. While purging could be good for seriously infected wounds, in this instance she was fearful that it would only spread the infection. Believing this, she chose a different route to begin treatment. Using her tongue, the young medic gently cleaned the wound. From there she applied a poultice made up of plants bearing pain relieving as well as infection fighting properties. Once she was done, Warja stepped back to admire her work.
"I think that'll do for now, Emma." The fae's gaze darted to her father. Now what? Would they send this wolf on her merry way? Invite her in, keep tending her wounds? It was entirely up to him. Warja would offer no opinion on the matter in this instance. His pack, his decision.
