He nodded, curtly, before taking her arm and examining the spots that looked too dried out carefully. Some are looking like they could lead to scarring so they get a salve reapplied before he starts to cast creation magic. Just because someone's holding on to anger doesn't mean he'll skimp on her care.

The healing process gets stimulated, skin continuing to regrow a faster and better than it would naturally, but this still isn't over. It never is, with shackles, and for a moment the frown on his lips isn't meant for her. His own scarred wrists, only spotted if she's choosing to pay attention, won't ever be healed of the marks. Hers at least still can.

"I'm going to re-wrap them. The bandages need to stay on for eight hours at least." His tone allows for no arguing. He is a healer.