Verissa nodded, she had heard of plantain, but had never used it personally before. She made sure to mentally note it as a wound aid, and substitute for elderberries. The compliment, or rather, statement of fact about that she knew more than the woman's students. So Shenzi was both a healer and a teacher. She'd have to learn to find it and grow it then. Then she realized that one thing everyone knew about Screamers was that they are nomads. It was why they were so hard to destroy, always elusive and mobile. If they lived in one place, the knights would've wiped them out years ago. 

When the woman continued again, Verissa felt her throat tighten. So it was inevitable. He was going to rape her no matter what. She would always be his slave, and eventually his slave-wife, to be raped whenever he pleased under the covenant of marriage. The thought nauseated her. But then the woman said something else. She heard the bit of him not being cruel, and the blonde believed her, after what she'd seen so far from him. A child or marriage meant... freedom? If she were... a citizen, she could do whatever she wished, right? 

But both meant giving up her innocence to a man she didn't like, didn't love, to a total stranger. Though maybe, if it were her choice, to do so for her freedom, it might not be so bad, justifiable if still terrible. A one time prostitution. Then she found herself wondering if this was how people ended up as whores, 'Just one time.'

She snapped out of it as the woman continued, taking care of a man in every way but... [i]that[/i] way wouldn't be so bad. Though, she wasn't much of a cook. But she knew enough herbs to make most things taste better. Cleaning was easy enough, fixing him up even more so. Though, she didn't know what other responsibilities came with her new 'job'. But making herself useful was easy. Verissa hated getting bored. 

But talking to him. What does one talk to her slaver about? 'I think these manacles should be painted blue.' Her mother had always told her to not ask her future husband a lot of questions, for it annoyed men. Her father, on the other hand, had encouraged her to ask him anything about anything. 

[color=f6989d][b]"I..."[/b][/color] her mind back on the virtue keeping now, resigning herself to what was clearly inevitable, [color=f6989d][b]"I can do that." [/b][/color] Verissa didn't bother to put her breast wrap back on, getting her shirt back on gingerly. She picked up her tea mixture and set it on the table, picking up the salve ingredients as well, keeping them separate. She began looking around his tent for some cooking implements. She spotted a pack near the stove, [color=f6989d][b]"What is a Swordmaster exactly? I know he's a warrior, but that title sounds.. important. Is it his... job? Or an honor?" [/b][/color]

Opening the pack, she found a few varying size pots, so she grabbed the biggest first, dipping it into the basin to fill it and setting it on the lit stove. This was so she could split it off, one for the tea, one for the salve, and the rest for the bandages. While it heated up, she decided to ask another question, [color=f6989d][b]"How many students do you have in healing? I've never seen so many in one place as I had when we arrived. Except maybe at Scream Watch, but most of them are... crude." [/b][/color] 

Once the water was boiling, she grabbed two bowls. The first she put in the herbs for the tea, and with the second she scooped the water out of the pot carefully. She then poured it slowly over the leaves, and set it aside to steep. She then added a generous helping of honey from her jar, her last jar of it. Grabbing a small spoon, she stirred above the leaves, letting them stay settled on the bottom. She grabbed some socks from her pack, and used them to protect her hands as she lifted the pot off the stove. Grabbing a much smaller pot, she half filled it with the hot water, and set it back on stove, waiting as it quickly returned to a rolling boil, before adding in the ingredients for her salve.

[color=f6989d][b]"Maybe I can work there if I'm ever..."[/b][/color] she wanted to say free, [color=f6989d][b]"Not a slave."[/b][/color]

She tossed a few clean rags into the larger pot of water, then, on a whim, added a handful of lavender petals as well. She returned to the smaller pot, stirring with a wooden spoon, until much of the water was boiled off and she had a nice goopy mess, which she deposited into a clean bowl. She set the bandages, needles, and sewing string on the table, and moved a chair next to it all. Everything was ready for his return.