"Mages and their ridiculous waste of magic," he mutters darkly under his breath at the idea. "Mages and their overbearing templars."

Maybe he's been around Hawke long enough to feel some sort of distasteful way toward the actions of a few select templars. A small few.

The smile grows a little wider at the hum. "You could have made it worse. Or bled to death." Take better care of yourself, woman. "Let me grab them."

After a few moments, he returns with bandages and a poultice. He knows rudimentary first aid, but it's enough, he thinks, to help her out. His hands are gentle at the moment, moving carefully over her leg as he treats it.