Mel paused in her stride as a pained groan reached her sensitive ears. The sound took her by surprise; it was barely morning, there were very few other elves around so early, who could have made such a sound? Notching an arrow to her bow string as a defensive precaution, she advanced forwards in the direction that the sound had come from. Before long she came to the section of the forest where the majority of their healing herbs grew, and that was when she saw him.

The figure had collapsed in the center of the clearing, face first in the dirt. Judging by the vast red stains that smattered the ground behind him, he was badly wounded. For a moment she hesitated, she didn't recognise him. Of course, it was entirely possible that they just hadn't met before. It was a large kingdom, she surely didn't know every face in the army. Likely he had been wounded by a wandering party of Drow before the sun came up. He was very lucky to have made it back this far.

Returning the arrow to her quiver, she strung her bow over her back once again to keep it from encumbering her ability to work on the soldier's wounds, she gathered a few of the herbs she knew would prevent infection and speed up the healing process, before slowly approaching him. 
"...Can you hear me?" she asked slowly, unsure of whether he was still conscious. He did not answer, confirming that was not the case. Sighing softly, the she-elf crouched beside him and began to peel back the fabric which had stuck to the open wound. 

Now that she looked at him more closely, she realised he was dressed rather strangely to be a soldier of this realm, they did not favor dark colored clothing, generally sticking to browns and greens. As she looked him over once again, as if to make sure she wasn't imagining things, she spotted the tuft of ashen white hair that stuck out from beneath his cloak, and flinched backwards in surprise. A Drow! What would a Drow be doing out here?

She felt torn. According to the teachings that she had been given, she should simply just leave him there to die. But morally, she wasn't sure if she could do it. He was badly wounded, it was in her nature to help those who were injured if she could. Another sigh passed her lips as she muttered quietly under her breath.
"...Father is going to murder me if he finds out about this."
But her mind had been made up. She had to staunch the bleeding and do what she could to bring him back around, no matter who he was. Thankfully she kept a small medicine pouch at her belt with her, with a meagre supply of clean bandages. 

Retrieving some water from a nearby stream, she used one of these to begin cleaning away the old, dried blood from the outside of the wound, so that she could better see where it would need to be wrapped. Crushing up the herbs she had collected, she applied them to the wound as well, somewhat thankful that the Drow was unconscious, at least he would not feel the stinging as the herbs began to work. Over this she then bound the remaining bandages she had taughtly over the wound, applying pressure until the bleeding finally abated. Sitting back she had to simply wait and pray, hoping that he would improve, and that he had not lost too much blood to be beyond saving.

There was of course, also the matter of what she would do with him once he did come around. She couldn't very well take him back with her, that would be a death wish for them both.
"Well, I'll just have to find somewhere else for him to lay low." she concluded to herself as she waited and watched over him. "Just until he's recovered, then he can go his own way."