Dalindme caught the wiff of fear coming off Melinda when she caught sight of his teeth, but didn't react to it as was its nature. If he was with anyone else, such an aroma would preceed a feast. With her it was little more then a stray scent on the breeze that triggered a protective instinct. Such was the bond forged in the depths of his soul so long ago.<br/><br/>Dalindme seemed more accepting of their difficulties or maybe it was more that he knew what he knew and for now it was enough. He treated her with great care and gave her time to enjoy how the water did its work, loosening tight, abused muscles and melting away<br/>the grime and caked blood from her body. A low, rumbling, gravelly sound issued from his chest when Melinda made that happy sound and mumured her pleasure at the experience to him. He nodded and lowered her a bit more so that it was the warm water and not his arms that was supporting her. That allowed her to have that feeling of peace and freedom that comes from floating about in blood warm water. "I fix," he offered as he tipped his muzzle at the angry wound on her chest.<br/><br/>Before she could ask what that entails he parts his jaws and extends his sinuous tongue down towards her grievous wound. Its long and thin like a serpents but is unforked. He traces the edges of the wound with the tip of it so lightly she almost didn't feel it. It was like he was both exploring the damage and tasting her pain and fear, taking more and more of it away the longer he doted upon her. Then the dexterous end of his tongue traced a series of sigils across the wound and she felt the feverish warmth of her body and much of the heat from the water all around her travel through her body to suffuse her knife carved chest. It burned and itched, pulled and stretched as her torn flesh began to reknit itself into wholeness. The process wasn't fast, and was strange, perhaps disgusting, but in the end he lived into his promise and 'fixed' that most obvious of wounds given to her by Thomas in the alleyway.