She couldn't stand there and watch him die. She was elated to see someone come to his aide, but what was he going to do? Her heart was racing and she did something completely idiotic. The cloaked figure stepped out of the brush and walked over to both males. He was unconscious. Both a good and a bad thing. He was safe to handle, but he could lash out at her if he awoke. And the other male, she knew nothing about. "I will help him." Was all she said. What was more important was stopping his bleeding. It was not a painless project, no matter the simplicity. It would burn a little, but there would be no sign of a scar, almost as though nothing had ever happened. The pain would still be there though. It was not in the nature of a woman to fear getting her hands dirty. The priestess knelt at his side and he had hit his head very well. The amount of blood was ridiculous. It was amazing he was even still breathing. The palm of her hand presed against his bloody tendrils. Pressing her palm against the wound and her thought was focused on sealing off the wound. It would take a minute or two and her hand was getting hotter and she sighed great relief when she pulled her palm away. More because of the searing heat from her own hand. There were no scars to either her flesh or his, but the blood was still there.<br/><br/>There was no telling if he had broken any bones. At least not while he was unconscious and no bones were protruding. She took his hand in her own and pressed two fingers to his wrist. His heart was still beating despite his shallow breathing. He was still bleeding from a few other places, but that was easily remedied with something far less complex. A small leather satchel with water was pulled from the side of of her waist wrap and she ripped a small portion of the bottom of her robe and dampened it and began clearing his face of the blood.  "He will be fine. Weak, yes, but he will live none the less." It was getting hot beneath her robe and the hood was taken down and her fiery locks left to fall free.