"You're just lucky I'm a genius," Kenspeckle grumbled as he continued using the poultice on whichever injuries were suitable, but there was pride and satisfaction in his tone. Gabriel didn't mention the evidence in his soul of just how long he'd already spent on this; how long, during the night, the professor had experimented using some feathers Gabriel hadn't even realised he'd lost during his original examination.

"Thank you," Gabriel murmured, deep gratitude in his voice. Kenspeckle waved it away, prattling on about the binding agents and the methods of some kind of oil distillation he'd used. When Fletcher returned not long after, the professor ordered the teen back to the door and gleefully began mixing more of the poultice, making minor but important adjustments and tweaks until Gabriel could say with perfect honesty that the pain was gone entirely.

Well, unless he moved his wings, but still.

Aside from the balm finally being applied to the Archangel's open wounds, the grooming was making Gabe feel somewhat close to clean again. He could definitely tell the difference; his feathers moved more smoothly with every layer preened, and there were some misaligned feathers on the edges of his injuries which had been tugging them beneath the surface. Some feathers had to be removed, as with the first, but Kenspeckle supplied some of that numbing poultice on each to make it easier.

For much of the time Gabriel sat, eyes closed and breathing deeply for the lavender, enjoying the feel of his wings' pain subsiding, the wash of Kenspeckle's voice, the refreshing touch of the oil on his feathers and Skulduggery's soul, calmer with every moment that passed and gave him time to settle.

It was only afterward that he realised with some amusement that it had taken much more than an hour--closer to three--and Kenspeckle had made Skulduggery wait, jaw-bound, through it all before removing the bandage.