Harry didn't think himself a person with a weak stomach. He'd seen some pretty gruesome things in his lifetime, but the blood pouring from Keara's noise made him wince and feel a small moment of queasiness. One day, he'd get over that. Maybe it was a good thing that the sight of an injury still made feel that way. Dignity be damned, he was still capable of emotion.
"Come here," Harry said and then held his wand to her nose, uttering a spell in a melodic tone that seemed to do enough to at least close up the wound so it would stop bleeding. He instructed, "Do you know the Tergeo spell? It'll clear any blood from there so you can still breathe." They still had work to do, after all.