Conlan hadn't needed to draw his weapon to fight. He knew he wouldn't have to. Despite the groups newest additions, most of them had proven halfway decent in a fight. And of those that had proven themselves, Hissra, was one that had moved at the same time he did. Qunari were hard for most people in Ferelden to read, but COn had fought side by side with them in the past, and knew that they would do their duty. In fact there was only one man in the entire company Con trusted in a fight more then the Qunari and he had just arrived to shield bash the last assailant to death. Before the man even hit the ground, Conlan was easing the woman down. His shield laid carefully at his side. (Lest Cryill once again yell at him about improper arms care.) He pulled one of his health poultices from his bag, thankfully he'd taken the opportunity to restock in the city. The girl mumbled to him, about having too much hair. Conlan looked up toward Hissra, towering over them and nodded back to the red head grin.
"Yeah I think he does too, but you know, Qunari with their wild hair styles." His fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt where the wound was, and he yanked, exposing the area around where she was stabbed, and pressed the poultice to it. It would at least stem the blood loss. Then he looked back up at the companions.
"Any chance we can magic this better or are we going to have to rig up some kind of a stretcher."