Maiko waits, but the punishment never comes. Honestly, she is a little surprised to find that her boldness had paid off, but she'd been prepared to defend herself even if the woman had wanted to make a point of it. In any case, she can't pretend to not be glad about it. It would be a pain, she thinks, to try to help while dodging teeth and claws alike. She can handle words, at least, but even those don't come - at least, nothing scathing. Instead, Maiko hears the apology in the woman's tone and offers a small smile in response. She bows her head, ever lady-like despite her disinterest in being seen as such, but quickly throws the formality aside in order to better get to work. It was just that...well, the work isn't entirely what she was expecting.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees the woman tense up at her words - or rather, Maiko thinks, the language they were spoken in. The expression is subtle enough that Maiko dismisses it, or at least thinks nothing of it. Many strangers were, at times, taken aback by her mother tongue, for it was not at all common. Maiko and her brother, Junketsu, spoke it freely with one another, but the rest of her family was long gone (something Maiko actively refused to think about, for the thought alone filled her with an uncomfortable combination of anger and sadness still). One day, she will teach her children and their children, but that day seems so far away - if it ever exists at all! - that she thinks nothing of it. Instead, she just accepts it for what it is in that moment: she is a stranger speaking a strange tongue, likely in a strange land, and so who would expect the woman to be anything but tense?

At least the thought keeps her from focusing too long, or too hard, on the stench that clings to Hietala like mud. Maiko is close enough now to see the true extent of the wounds, and to see just how poorly the woman fares while bearing them. It is why, without hesitation, she swoops in the moment the woman begins to lift herself up. Despite the ever-present risk of being bitten at, Maiko takes up a position closer to the woman, gently pressing her own shoulder towards Hietala's as an offer of support. Of course, she doesn't expect her to take it, but she's ready to take up the burden if she so chooses. Though Hietala is very much a stranger to her, Maiko can already tell that she's a proud woman, something only confirmed when she speaks.

"It is a pleasure, Hietala, daughter of King Haggard and Lenore." She pauses, considering her options for a moment as she eyes off the riverbank and shallow water. Hietala's movement catches her off guard, and she finds herself momentarily surprised as the woman's nose touches her - yet, Maiko quickly returns the gesture, though she is less certain about it. Certainly not something Maiko is used to, no. When she isn't trying so hard to seem so composed, Maiko is more likely to be found rough-housing with her brother or prying voles out from their tunnels, not so much studying the formalities of meeting strangers or daughters of kings.

"I am Maiko." She speaks plainly, her lips taut as if to hold back the names of her parents and kin. It was not out of embarassment, for they were certainly no kings or queens, but out of spite. It is in that moment that her eyes are hard, but she is just as quick to soften them and scramble away from the topic of names, ranks and titles. Instead, she busies herself with Hietala once more. "If you will...The grass is still quite soft. It will be of some comfort, I hope." She motions to the shorter grass by the riverbank, once again offering her shoulder to the woman if she wants the support.

Just so, Maiko quickly steels herself for the sights and smells that battle leaves. Being so close to Hietala, she can better see the woman's wounds. Though there are several across the woman's narrow shoulders, Maiko's eyes are quickly drawn to the deep punctures at the back of her neck. It is those, she thinks with narrowed eyes, that are the source of such woes. They are in a position difficult for any wolf to reach, and the fur is thick over the area, trapping debris easily with little ways of being shaken free. With that in mind, she cannot help but sigh and shake her head. Yes, there is likely some logic to battle - after all, she was eager to learn how to defend and attack wolf or bear alike - but it seems cruel, she admits to herself, to inflict that kind of wound on a loner. Pack wolves? Perhaps, for they had healers and kin...But loners? She snorts, unimpressed, but then quickly looks away for a moment in learned embarassment.

"I know only a little. I will clean what I can, but then it is important to find a Healer with more knowledge." She clears her throat and settles, ready to begin work. "I am of Diveen. It is east of here, and not too far. Once I am finished, I can bring a Healer here. I do not think it is wise for you to travel, even if it is not far." She mentions travel so that the woman does not think her unwilling to take her to Diveen, for Maiko must admit it would be easier to do such a thing rather than run back, find a Healer, and then return in good time. Ultimately, she knows she will be the one to have to carry and gather supplies, and it adds substantial time to her would-be journey North. Still, she will help, and she will be better for it.

She spends little time fussing then, and with a sharp look - one that says get ready - she begins circling Hietala, finding the best angle from which to begin examining the wounds. Maiko starts with the less severe - those of the woman's shoulders - where the fur is gone and the skin raw, but not so deep. Still, there are leaf fragments to remove, and old, tangled blood to pull away. It is entirely unpleasant, but completely necessary. Maiko cannot begrudge Hietala for the unpleasantness of the task, can she? "Tell me, Hietala-san, of your home, perhaps?" She makes such a request so that both the women can think of anything other than Maiko tugging and tearing at tangled, matted fur.