[ Ah, so not as work, then. Simply as a carer. Lancelot smiles to himself a little, even if she cannot see it, and shifts his hands to gently rub at the puppy's chest. She flops over onto her side to allow him better access, but her ears still prick around curiously at the sounds of the forest. She's still cautiously alert to any potential danger. ]

Then I envy you. Your skill is something to be admired, to heal and nurture so. My skill is with the sword. I fear that will little help me with my friend here.