It crossed Otterfang's mind that an ill cat had asked for her; but he was confused, it immediately seemed, and that truly took the joy out of it. "R-Ryewhisker!" she worriedly meowed, bracing as the larger cat bumped into her. "A-a-alr-alright, y-you pr-probably h-have a c-c-con-concussion," she continued, upon hearing his head hurt; her own mind a bit soothed, for at least he had an issue that Otterfang knew how to solve. She attempted to lead him to an empty nest. "J-just g-get c-c-c-comfy h-here, b-but no m-matter wh-what, don't sl-sleep. Do not fall as-asleep, Ryewhisker," she rather simply and clearly put, rushing off to the herb storage to get more medicine; she had only retrieved wound-healing herbs earlier, not expecting something like a concussion to take place in such a battle. Feverfew, juniper, lavender, chamomile. "E-eat these," she commanded, pushing the bundle of herbs up to Ryewhisker's maw.
EVERY TRAIL I TRACK / open, post-battle first aid
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