"Travel will tax him more," the vulpine warns expressionlessly, padding onto the scene.  Once more, he supposed he should start carrying an herb satchel more often.

His hazel eyes glinted, brows creasing in thought. "His wounds are infected."  Unfortunate, but not untreatable -- the boy would not die if he had proper care.  While Gael trusted Aine may know what to do, the metal added an unusual variable.

He felt it may be better if he handled this case instead of his daughter.

"Piers, yes?" The faerie inquired, tone dropping to something softer.  "Do you feel alright to move a little more?  The Event Temple is where we store our herbs.  I'll able to help you better inside."