Reynion closed his eyes. Morlathion seemed to have a genius for picking the worst questions. She was a healer, but, hopefully, she was also in Mirkwood, tending to those who needed it. And much as he had begun to like the good-natured Morlathion, if he wasn't careful, there would be another reason to need a healer.
"I'm no healer," Reynion admitted. "But I do know something of cuts and scrapes. Let me see that." He chuckled, surprisingly light-heartedly for the mood he'd been in.
He took Morlathion's hand and began to pick the bits of glass out of the cuts. Morlathion winced a little because Reyn was rather rough about it, but he said nothing. Reynion took some gauze out of his belt-pouch and began to wrap the lacerated palm. It wasn't too bad, just bleeding rather remarkably. A tiny bit of an herb that Tau--that someone had shown him finished the cure.
"There. That should take care of it," Reynion anounced. "You know, I'm surprised that they let you go anywhere alone the way you break things. Ever broken any bones?"
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