The experienced woman by his side offered her short compliment, and despite the severity of the situation, warm relief washed through him at her soft tones. She always spoke truthfully to those that chose to listen, and he understood that she meant what she said. It would be something to revel in the future, but not now. When the leg was wrapped in crimson, pinks and yellow, the young leader turned to his member, and he knew that she knew that everything would sort itself out. Conor was no longer the little runt he once had been. His build was indeed similar to that of his father, but colours were brighter, smoother and his heart was not painted black.
”Thank you, Cwmfen, you may return to your duties.” She had done what had been expected of her and more. He would remain here for a little while, see when and if the bandage would do its job before picking up the task of carrying the injured loner back to Wolfville and the home where Conor had everything he needed to make sure the wound would mend well. If he survived, of course.