…What? No, I’m not talking about the cat paws. I was expecting you to grab one of these-

[ gesturing at some of the cotton wipes in the kit with the non-clawed hand. He reminds himself she is a creature of the Pre-Modern and balked at the smell of alcohol like it was her first time smelling it.

Is he going to have to explain Germ Theory today? He takes out a second little bottle and sets it upright in the kit.

In a very deadpan tone: ]

Okay, this is an antiseptic. You wet the cotton with this and pass it over the cuts. The alcohol spray works too.

That’s how people in this era usually dress wounds to prevent infection, yeah?

[ Miguel is not ruling out magic. He just wants to make sure she isn’t going to pull out a leech or try to bleed out the humours. ]