[ Good gods. Or, to borrow something from Rob: Merlin's soggy bollocks. He's bloodied and winged and horned, and if she didn't know better she'd say he's a demon. But she knows better, and demons dress nicer and don't like the mess - as far as her experience with Wrath has been, anyway.
There they go, moving onwards towards the gate, the pack of wolves falling back. When she's sure there'e enough distance between them, she pushes the small bag at her hip open with the tip of her wand, and summons a healing potion of sorts. Weaker than essence of dittany, but will do the trick for the bite - start, at least, to seal it up. The vial flies up, and she slips her hand out of his grip to grab it, holding it out to him. ] Here, drink this now. Also - sorry about this, but I'm sure you're not keen on infection, so - Scourfigy.
[ The spell removes the blood on his clothes near the wound, so she can see better if it works - while they're running. ]
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There they go, moving onwards towards the gate, the pack of wolves falling back. When she's sure there'e enough distance between them, she pushes the small bag at her hip open with the tip of her wand, and summons a healing potion of sorts. Weaker than essence of dittany, but will do the trick for the bite - start, at least, to seal it up. The vial flies up, and she slips her hand out of his grip to grab it, holding it out to him. ] Here, drink this now. Also - sorry about this, but I'm sure you're not keen on infection, so - Scourfigy.
[ The spell removes the blood on his clothes near the wound, so she can see better if it works - while they're running. ]