[Nevtalathiel]

Something about the sight of blood stirred emotions deep within Tumnaooriel. She was at home with blood. "Once," she thought, "I was a healer." and with the thought came a realisation that she had left that life behind and now scarcely remembered it, save when she was actively reminded. It was true, she had been a nurse; caring for the sick and injured of the village in which she lived. Until the child had died. It had not been her fault, it wasn't the wounds, it had been something deeper, something over which she had no power, It had not been her fault!
Tumnaooriel was drawn back to the present and found that her breath was shaky and her fingers trembled.
"Water" she said brusquely in an attempt to overcome the lump in her throat.
"What do you know of this? I doubt you have even gone far enough from your home to have witnessed so much as a scraped knee!" Culloth barked.
"Do not question me now." Tumnaooriel replied surprising even herself with her boldness and the sharpness of her voice. "You know your trade I know mine When there is a battle, I will follow your instructions, but when someone is wounded you will let me care for them to the best of my ability. I am certian it is better than yours! I need water and any clean material which can be spared."
Ignoring Culloth's grumbles, Tumnaooriel knelt beside Gwyn and began to clean her wounds.