"Er..." For a few seconds, the mare was at a loss of what to say. She stood awkwardly, mouth agape. The moment stretched on, milliseconds turning into eons. Finally she fumbled together some rough words that popped up to the forefront of her mind. "W-well, be that your opinion. I apologize if my coloration gives you distress." Her words were not sarcastic, nor said in any sort of spite. They were said with a calm, if frazzled, acceptance. "My name's Sakura." Her mouth twisted upwards into a smile, slipping into the smooth stream of conversation.
"But enough talking from me." The scent of fresh blood pulled her mind back to the task at hand. She took a few moments, channeling the power through the body, pulling it in from her muscles and organs and moving it towards her horn. The raw energy passing through her pulsed off her in small waves. She was not the most powerful of healers, but she had been trained how to use her magic well. The power concentrated in her horn, adding a glow to its golden color. "This may feel a bit odd..." Her voice was low, slipping away as she closed her eyes, barely paying attention to whether he heard her or not.
The first task was always to clean and disinfect. She used her mind's eyes to probe the wound, sensing rather than feeling. There appeared to be no visible debris, which was a good start. She expanded her awareness, allowing her to feel the bacteria which were ascending upon the wound like ravenous wolves. Not all were bad, some were probably helping with the healing process, but she could take no risks. Sending a trickle of her power in, she flushed out the tiny microorganisms, pushing them out and away from the wound. Those that were awkward to move were instantly killed, leaving the wound sterile.
But if she did not stem the bleeding, they would soon attract more than just bacteria. At least no bones were broken, and though the gash was deep it seemed to have missed the major blood veins. She let in another trickle of energy, shaping it to the form of the blood vessels, encouraging them to bend back and patch up their walls. Making sure to keep that magic in place, she sent in more tendrils. These reformed the muscles, knitting them back into place as closely as she could. The joining was not as strong as the body's natural pattern, but given a week or so there would be no difference between that patch of muscle and the rest.
The penultimate tendril went out to the skin, forming a protective barrier over the former wound, preventing any further bleeding or infection. Then came a touch of vanity. She focused, growing back the hair cells and encouraging them to take root. A patch of fuzzy, short fur grew over what would have been a scar. Finally, Sakura let the remaining power wash over it, sealing the magic in place, before withdrawing the contact.
