Ivy catches Arty and carefully props her up against a tree trunk. “Hold her,” she orders Arthur, carefully palpating for any injuries. When she gets to her left arm, anger flashes in her eyes. She rips Arty’s sleeve off so she can look at the wound better. She rinses out the wound and begins to bandage it with a salve more advanced and developed than what she’d made four years ago. It was more powerful, and worked deeper, although it took a little longer to fully work.