Loam, with the enemy dead for the most part and nothing better to do, complied with the blonde's request. Whether she was a Screamer or not didn't really matter. All that came with the name were just bitter memories of being left behind, considering their situation it didn't matter either.

He ambled off, taking a few nips of moonshine as he went. It wasn't hard to find his way back to where the dragon landed. He'd been right there after all. Getting the chance to survey his handiwork was something Loam didn't often get the chance to do. Being in the moment he often glossed over what happened and why, but here it all was laid out in broken bodies. God damn, it was satisfying.

He found her not long after, wandering alone, naked, and bleeding. He also got to hear the last of her comments to herself. He didn't know much about dragons or wings, but if she said the wing had to go, well, who was he to argue?

[color=f26522][b]"Ey lass. Seems some trouble's found you. Don't worry, good ol' Loam will set you right. Still..."[/b][/color]

His tone was frank. He dropped his jug and sheathed sword in front of her.

[color=f26522][b]"A few tucks of that for the pain, then bite down. Don't need you swallowing your tongue when I lop it. Don't get too drink too much either. You'll need to sear it shut after."[/b][/color]

His preamble done, he grabbed the broken wing firmly. It was mostly to emphasize his point, but also to let her know it was about to get worse in a moment.