"I don't think anyone here would mistreat the animals," Rose said, raising an eyebrow. Gray cared for the magical ones, but she didn't know who wrangled the mundane animal performers. "Perhaps they were responding to the unfamiliarity of a new handler who is also a shifter?" Her gift wasn't so precise that she could pinpoint what animal he was, but she knew he was a shifter. She finished flushing the wound and set the saline aside, softly turning his arm to and fro to get a thorough look at it. She was gentle when she had to probe or move the damaged skin; her touch was confident and her hands didn't shake.
"The problem with you fast healers is that you'll heal up around stitches, even if I use the fast-dissolving ones," she told him, weighing options. She'd normally stitch it or close the wound, give him some antibiotics, and let nature take its course, but it was a painful bite and he'd be in for an uncomfortable night. She rationed her magic carefully during the day in case of emergency, but it was the end of the night. She thought she might be safe to take the shortcut route; her body would work through the pain faster than his seemed to be, at least.
"Hold still," she said, decision made. "This won't hurt." Laying a hand gently over his arm, she let her magic - her real magic, not the diagnostic party trick she used without thinking - go to work. There was nothing flashy about it - no glow or mist or any other indication that she was doing anything except the sensation of slow warmth like honey being poured out and the torn flesh visibly mending under her grasp.