Brigham produces a handkerchief, and sets it in his lap. "Don't touch," he says mildly and without looking up from his task, as though reminding an apprentice of something on reflex.

He glances up momentarily, lifting his hands to the wound. "By pulling." How else might one remove a foreign object from the flesh?

His answer is Daithi's only warning. There would be pain for a moment, to be sure: he turns the remainder of the arrow shaft just enough to ensure the head of it would not dislodge. Then, he removes it at the angle that would provide - hopefully - the least resistance. Any finesse he lacks in his skill as a field surgeon, he soothes with a wash of magic as soon as the arrow is free. He casts with a gesture of his free hand, easing the protest of raw nerve and knitting flesh. The broken arrow he discards next to him, and turns to his task fully.