"I've got you," he mutters under his breath, pressing his fingertips and palm firmly to the wound to hold it closed as he briefly studies the arrowhead - yes, all of it is present - before tossing the offending weapon onto the tabletop.

With his palm still flat against her chest, he reaches and allows his skills to work to heal the damage in her shoulder.

And then he leans in and allows his forehead to fall lightly against hers. This effort, he does for pain relief - and while it is draining, he keeps the contact brief as to not completely exhaust his reserves.

Once the skin has finished knitting itself together, he leans back in the chair and exhales heavily, tired.