( the blood has stopped and she hasn't done him any new injuries - it is as much as she might've hoped for. her expression is a little wry at max's displeasure, and she lowers the sword as gingerly as she'd lifted it, slow to avoid clumsiness.
she is not accustomed to wielding a sword. her staff is one thing. )
There,
( infusing a bit more certainty into her voice than she has rightly felt. )
no subject
she is not accustomed to wielding a sword. her staff is one thing. )
There,
( infusing a bit more certainty into her voice than she has rightly felt. )
The poultice, then, and back to camp.