Massage it.

Along with wet, suckling lips, Xalendra felt gentle, probing fingers upon her inner thigh. The woman began pushing the flesh around the wound, massaging it with increasing pressure. With the proximity of the wound to the more sensitive flesh between her legs, the woman's hands were rubbing up against that as well. Such stimulation was new to her, and she didn't know whether or not she wanted it to stop.

It was helping to get the poison out, of course, so she had to let it continue. Clearly it was the only option.

“How- how long will it take?” Xalendra asked on heavy breaths, eyes averted to the warm red fire.

After a slow, audible kiss to her leg followed by turning to the side to spit out the poison, the medicine woman took a moment to cast a golden-lidded glance above the hem of her bunched skirts, her slightly-parted lips glistening as they shifted to a small smile. “Not long, if you can bear it,” she said softly before returning her mouth to the princess' thigh.

She bit her lip, breath hitching as a firm knuckle grazed her panties. She didn't know why, but it actually felt... good. She wasn't entirely sure bearing it would be a problem. That was, until a hand moved up her leg again, and she realized her undergarments were just beginning to get as wet as her thigh. The medicine woman would definitely notice, and what would she think?

It was getting too embarrassing—Xalendra was unable to suppress the feelings that would surely be betrayed by a stain upon the thin white fabric of her panties. But it was either this or fall victim to an illness, at least according to this woman.

The air in the tent felt hotter, and the princess was flushed in the dim light of the fire. She wanted the poison out, but didn't want it to keep feeling so... or maybe she did... but it wasn't right! Or was it?