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"Easy now, Jon Snow," said Lynnea from where she stood in the spring at the rear of the cave. Her knees were only barely soak half clean of the sticky mixture of honey, blood, and shedding skin and fur that coated them she heard him gasping clear across the cave. "It's a good thing you're awake. I wasn't sure that you would - the snow you shoved paw of yours in made it a bit more tender than it would have been, had you tried cool water. What did you do to it?" Leaning down Lynnea went back to cleaning her legs - rubbing them gently agaist the wall of the spring.

Lynnea winced as she accidentally scraped a little fur off one of her knees. When he spoke of a skinwalker, her head shot up. "A rabbit skinwalker? Gods, I'll have to be more careful of the ones I see out there. What color was she, if you remember?" That was all Lynnea needed - to be attacked now that her medicinal supplies was down to half or less. It would probably kill her; she had only very little combat training, and against a skinwalker who would have no qualms hurting her, unlike others she had fought, she wouldn't stand a chance.

How did he get his paws on a fire? Surely none burned this time of year, but that wasn't important. Looking around her cave, with the rough stone walls and the steam rising from the spring around her, Lynnea smiled. "We are in my home for the season. A cave a ways up a mountainside." Pausing for a moment, she tilted her head. "Where did you come from?"

White with blood on it. So it would be nearly invisible against the snow - just what she needed. But Jon Snow slowly stopped forming whole sentences, which meant that it was he that needed something. The water swished around Lynnea as she made her way to the natural step or two that had formed in the wall of the spring of time. She dripped warm water from everywhere: down her legs, tickling down her chest and belly. "It does not matter. Speak when you are stronger." Going to her jars again, Lynnea lifted a top off and pulled out another strip of willow bark. Though she was a bit more wary, now that he was awake and slightly more functional, she still bent down to nudge it between his lips. "This should keep your mouth busy. Chew." After a moment of checking his bandage to make sure it did not soak through or get too close to the puddle of melted snow on the floor, Lynnea busied herself with her jars, reorganizing. The empty ones stood closest to the entrance along the wall, the fuller ones closer to the spring. "It has been a long time since I've used my skills as a healer on anyone but myself, Jon Snow," she said. "You're lucky I'm in the practice of keeping my skills up to date."

Looking up from her pots, Lynnea snorted at him as he continued talking, despite the bark in his mouth and whatever pain he felt. She'd been forced to remove the first piece of bark from his mouth when he'd passed out, and that had brought her far too close to his fangs for comfort, even in his sleep. Still, it had to be done. Having a patient choke on medicine while she was administering other care wouldn't be exactly professional.

"I already answered that question, Jon Snow, before you found a nap in the middle of treatment. You shouldn't lose it, as long as you let me care for it. Quiet yourself. I'm sure that your wolf would agree with me when I say that you need to save your strength." With some bit of admiration, she looked at the white canid pressed up beside him. "He was the one keeping you warm in the snow."

"I only very shortly doubted he would not hurt me, Jon Snow," she said, shaking her head at him. "And wee it not for your addled state, I'd scold you for forgetting my name." She paused, picking up a lid and putting it back onto a jar. "You were rather close, though, for the pain you must be in. That bark that you keep speaking around will help, so stop talking and chew, our spit it and and go back to sleep. Spirits know your body could use it."

Sighing as she heard his breathing deepen, Lynnea went to retrieve the piece of bark he had fallen asleep with in his mouth. This time, now that she had had a more coherent conversation with him, she was less fearful of getting so close to his mouth of sharp teeth, but she remained cautious. Interrupting anyone's sleep could be dangerous - they could bolt to their feet in a second and knock her over in the process. She pulled the bark from between his lips, gentle and slow, then set it down a foot or so away from his mouth, just in case he needed to dull the pain when he awoke. Moving a way a little, she shook off the remaining water that dripped from her hide, then went to lie on the floor beside him. The stone was far from comfortable; her nest of grass in the corner was a far sight better, but he needed warmth more than she needed her nest.

Glancing over Jon Snow's back, Lynnea caught the ruby eyes of his wolf. "Keep him warm, Ghost," she said softly. "And get some rest. I'm sure you need it." She gave the wolf a small smile and laid her head on the floor beside Jon's shoulder.