The hermit healer

Her brother was right, she would have trouble convincing anyone in the village to help. Luckily she had once come across a hermit living nearby on a prior hunt. He was an elderly elf who sported a long white beard and walked around hunched over seemingly only being held upright by his staff. The man was a bit of a pervert, having openly flirted with her and tried to peek up her skirt in spite of being several centuries older than her. Pervert or not, she knew he kept a bookcase full of spell books, bottled potions and strange magical artifacts. He was her only chance at helping her mysterious new companion.

She banged her fist against the round wooden door of his humble hut but no one came to the door. Hoping he was simply asleep, she rammed the door with her stag until the latch gave and it propped open. She let herself in, dragging her heavy companion behind her but discovered the hut was unoccupied at the moment. Nevertheless she struggled to get the wounded man onto the bed and began searching through the bookcase looking for anything that might be of use. The old man didn't care to label any of the potions. she thought she might recognize one as a fairy leaf mixture which contained strong healing properties but was not sure she wished to risk poisoning her new friend.