"I have lavender tinctures upstairs, and there is dried willow bark in the pantry. I will take you to the botanical shop after this," he offers. "There may be little to nothing left for you to take from there, but at least you may look over that shop and the adjacent greenhouse for yourself."

It probably isn't the most pleasant feeling to have the arrow wound washed out and disinfected, but he has to be sure it's cleaned out before he starts, and stitching is probably not much better. There is a distinct sense of skin being poked and pulled, but Doc makes his stitches small and keeps his work neat. No doubt she won't appreciate it but at least she won't die from a nasty infection.

"Is there anyone here that you think might hurt you? Or have you left the war behind?" Clearly between his concern for her survival and her concern about the aesthetics and implications of scar tissue, they have wildly different priorities.