Amalia
the shield of safrin
Amalia's fingers are gentle and lithe as she spreads the honey upon his wounds, trying not to prod too deep, to wound him in her attempts to heal. She hasn't done this in a long time, and her skills are rusty, so she pretends he is a particularly fragile dough - ciabatta, perhaps. Something light.
"Honey is supposed to help keep it from becoming putrid." Taking the gauze he has created, she begins to wrap it around his shoulder, making a pad to put atop the honey before starting to carefully apply the dressing. She attends to the bite first, the wound appearing most presently dangerous, frowning fiercely at the spiderwebbing darkness that leeches out into his skin. "When did these happen?"
"Honey is supposed to help keep it from becoming putrid." Taking the gauze he has created, she begins to wrap it around his shoulder, making a pad to put atop the honey before starting to carefully apply the dressing. She attends to the bite first, the wound appearing most presently dangerous, frowning fiercely at the spiderwebbing darkness that leeches out into his skin. "When did these happen?"
you are slowly growing
but you are still growing
and that is enough
