Sloan prodded her side. "You're a skilled healer." The only remnants of her wound were the ragged gashes in her coat. Nothing she hadn't handled before. After years of abuse, she'd become proficient at mending with magic, despite having no innate aptitude. She had to conceptualize rays of light twisting into individual threads and intwining to patch the holes. Odd, but effective. You could get a lot done with any power if you were creative enough.

(Chapter 4)