The gold, clinging to the braid the healer had woven her hair into since they last met, hummed in worry as she saw the full extent of the injury. The ones upon shoulder and back were worst, true, but that curl just over his hip would scar. There was no avoiding that. "I do not wish you pain," she admitted softly. "For now it is simply unavoidable. You can no more take fellis juice while in the waters than numbweed might stick well enough." Because the healer could not lift him from a bath when the juice knocked him out!

"Wine may take the edges of the pain, and that you may have if you wish?"