"Very useful," he agreed. "Though it's a bit — er, it's not exactly like the healing magic you're used to. I never learned anything to help with pain," he said with a sheepish half-shrug. "They had an herb for that, but honestly they didn't use it much. You were just expected to... feel things, rather than numb them." It was a philosophy that had some merit, in Alfred's opinion — but it had taken him a while to see it as anything other than a backwards group of people who had yet to invent pain potions or medications, and he had been immersed in the tribe's way of life. He wasn't sure that he would even be able to really explain what he was getting at to someone who hadn't been there. Jo might have understood, if anyone in England did, because she was well-traveled and relatively open-minded, but even with her he wasn't sure it was worth trying to explain. Did he even know how to describe it using English words?

"So, uh, the healing spell I know is — well, it's a mending spell, really," he continued, moving on from the philosophical aspect of it and into the practicality. "It's the same spell you would use to repair a tear in a piece of cloth or canvas. It stitches things back up. And, uh, it works just as well with muscle and skin. But it hurts," he admitted. "Just as much as doing things the Muggle way."