She pressed the edges of the wound together, letting out a breathy curse in a language I didn't know. "Did you know", she said, "that this kind of glue was originally developed as an emergency battlefield suture?"
"Did you know that you're about to find out what I had for breakfast this morning?" I countered.
"I don't know if it's true", she continued. "I saw it in a movie. With - dammit - with werewolves." She exhaled and drew her hands slowly from the wound. Another two or three inches of puckered flesh were now closed together. Gard looked awful, her face grey and lined with pain.
I'm not misremembering, right?