[i]Skies above help me,[/i] Winter thought to herself as she watched the situation continue to twist itself around.

The man who'd made such a grand display earlier, Mikel, was still going on about possible assassins when the queen's captain of the guard marched into the tavern, an air of authority and righteousness in such a backwater hole. Really, these people knew nothing of subtlety. 

Winter raised an eyebrow at the knight she was attending to at his blasé attitude towards his injuries, but really what had she expected?

"If you will please drink this, sir," she said, pulling out a vial of white liquid from her bag. It was a simple concoction, meant to increase his stamina so she could safely use his own energy to heal his wounds. "This may cause some discomfort." With that, she put her glowing hand to his festering side, working first on burning away his infection. It was only after that she began murmuring an incantation, mending the muscles and sinew.

This was simple work, basic enough that Winter could safely work on the knight while still observing the tavern. It became increasingly difficult for Winter to keep her composure when the thief left their group and had the gall to actually begin [i]hustling[/i] a pair of men at dice. Her quick eyes caught the way he put his slight-of-hand skills to use. Then of course the two men caught on and hauled themselves up, faces full of rage and spittle flying from their mouths. The next instant, they were on their way to the door, ready to no doubt settle their 'manly' differences the only way their pride would allow them. They practically ran over a young girl who'd just walked in and was busy eyeing every woman in the establishment. Winter almost couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes in exasperation when the girl seemed to pick her nerve up from off the floor (at the urging of the Bellady woman, no less) and followed the men out the tavern.

She really did [i]not[/i] need this additional thing to deal with. She was already unsteady enough with the queen so close, bringing so many unwanted memories to the forefront. She didn't want to put up with this thief and his inconvenient issues. Plus now this other girl was involved, who was somehow a part of their group. This whole situation was unwinding in a way that made Winter's patience thin. She was in no way interested in some bar brawl being started, especially since she had this cover to keep. It was this that caused the Qiran to do what she did next. 

Taking a deep, slow breath, she began to change her incantation, the glow around her hand changing from ice blue to a deep navy color. Glancing up at her charge to make sure he was still stable, Winter turned her head the slightest bit so she could see the men outside, the girl almost upon them. Focusing as best she could, Winter twisted her words around to ensure her objective was met. This was the most difficult of the three heeling spells the Qiran used, and the easiest to bungle. The men were a bit far away, but… yes, Winter was certain it would be easy enough. It would also help her work off this excess energy that had been thrumming through her veins since she was first assigned this job.

She watched as the two men began interrogating the thief, anger coming off of them in waves. The fatter one was bearing down on him, clearly intending to use his size to his advantage. That is, until he winced and brought a hand to his side. He lifted his palm back up to see a streak of bright red staining it. His shirt was bleeding red at his side… the same side on the knight that Winter was healing, in fact. The man's eyes widened and he backed away from the thief, terror etched into every pore of his face. 

The other man, the more weasel-like of the two, watched his companion with equal fear. He turned back to Thom, shouting, demanding to know what he'd done. His arm shot forward and he grabbed the front of the thief's shirt, only to find long red cuts appear on his skin. During the altercation, Winter's other hand had taken on the same dark glow and found it's way to the shallow cuts on Rand's arm.

The man shoved Thom away. He and his companion, horrified at the mysterious abilities the thief seemed to possess and afraid of what else he might do, backed away. Winter had only given them skin-deep cuts, the leftovers from Rand's injuries that she had not already healed, but they almost fell over themselves when they turned and ran, leaving both the thief and girl behind.

Winter couldn't help her gasp when the connection stretched and snapped, bringing her back to herself. That had used more energy than she thought. The the tavern air had turned suffocating and frigid, and she could feel the light beads of sweat gathering on her skin. No, perhaps that hadn't been wise. At the very least, she felt that she could now stand to be in the same room as the queen with out her fingers itching for a dagger. A wire would do, instead.

Remembering the knight, Winter glanced up to him before quickly turning back to her work. The glow from her hands was already extinguished, and Winter pulled away from the newly-mended skin to see her palms coated in the man's blood. This was an occupational hazard, as she had to touch the wound to heal it, but she perhaps had not been as gentle as she should have been when her attention had turned to Thom's… acquaintances. 

"The scar will likely remain until it fades away naturally," she said as she pulled a cloth out of her bag to wipe away the mess, still not looking up at the knight. She doubted he was one to care for vanity though – the scar marring his face spoke to that. Pulling out another vile of white liquid, she placed it on the table between them. "Please drink this and come to me if there are any other issues." Perhaps not the most convincing performance of her life (Winter's hands again were shaking, though this time for entirely different reasons) but composure was always easily found for her.