Veho took silent note of his companion's description, nodding gravely. A murder – she must be a heinous wolf indeed, if she were so willing to attack and slaughter a fellow. He sighed softly, shaking his head. A foolish loss, he thought, but he would not comment on it. Obviously, the female felt the pain of it, and he'd not rub salt in what was still an open wound. Instead, he focused on his expertise, further inspecting the bald spot before taking a step back to meet her gaze.
"You aren't the first wolf I've seen contract it," he replied with a wry smile, hoping it offered Oula some comfort. "And I doubt you could have prevented it. This damp weather seems to exacerbate skin conditions in many." Hopefully the female would not feel too poorly, for there was little she could have done. Even a trained medic probably wouldn't have known he'd gotten the affliction until the itching began, and by then it was too late. Fortunately, the loner seemed agreeable to his method of treatment (for he had no other solution, rare to see as this ailment was) and he bobbed his head, turning to lead her down the stream.
He paused for only a moment, gathering up his pile of yarrow before he left – he'd come out here with a purpose, after all! "Ah hink Ah haw a hive on he river," the male mumbled around his mouthful, careful not to drop any of the stalks as he festinated down creek's bank. Surely Oula was uncomfortable with her skin like that! After several minutes of silent travel, he slowed, placing his pile down away from the water once more as his ears began to swivel. "Do you hear the buzzing?" he asked, nodding his head towards a hive hanging over the creek. "I think, if we knock it in, the bees will go away, yes? Bees do not particular care for water, as far as I understand."