Gently, as though she was a baby bird capable of being squished in his grasp, Dory reached for her upper arm to turn her back around. He knew she was capable of defending herself and that the man who'd done this was likely suffering as much as she presently was, but such knowledge didn't satisfy his growing impulse to squeeze the life out of the perpetrator. This was his best friend, his long time lover, his confidante. That someone harmed her would never sit well with Dory.

One look at her still bleeding forehead had him frowning. It was a wide gash that would leave a visible scar if not tended to. "May I help? Please?" After spending so much time with Maple these last few months Dory had picked up on a few simple healing spells. "You'll scar if it's not mended." He explained gently. "I know a mediwitch if you'd prefer. It doesn't have to be me."

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