"Hold still." Willowshine hissed, glaring darkly at the black warrior as she smeared herbs on the punture wounds in his leg. "You shouldn't be on this side of the border anyway, much less in a thorn bush!" she berated him. He looked at her, eyes narrowed against the sting of the herbs. "You know why I'm on this side of the border, and as for the thorn bush, what else was I supposed to do with Mothwing wandering all over like a lost soul? Where is she now, anyway?" he asked. Willowshine snorted at his excuses, but answered his question.