The Aaenshi healer was quiet, watching Verissa struggle with the reality of her knew life. She didn't try to push any more information on the girl than she asked for, and knew there would be plenty of time to teach her how to cope with her change in circumstances over the next few days.

[color=bc8dbf]"You can. It may not seem like it, but you have more choice than you know, especially with a man like Asher."[/color] She thought about telling Verissa that she was lucky, but the comment would only ring false and hateful.

Shenzi helped poke through Asher's things, taking a strange delight in being so nosy, but also forging the way for the girl to feel comfortable taking to the tasks that would be expected of her. She found a quilted leather-lined mitt in the cooking kit and set it out so that Verissa wouldn't have to use socks next time.

[color=bc8dbf]"Both. A Swordmaster is more than just a warrior, he or she is a warrior with exceptional skill. Most tribes only have one, but the Thunderfangs have four because we are such a large tribe. It is an honour to be given the title by the Warlord, but it comes with a burden of responsibility. You are familiar with the ranks of the Ebon Knights, yes? A Swordmaster is responsible for the warriors underneath them, the defense and protection of the tribe. His position comes with benefits, some of which will extend to you."
[/color]
The canid was careful to keep her tone level, factual. If she herself held any hatred for Ebonfort it was well-concealed. Shenzi watched Verissa work, occasionally helping by passing a pot or stirring when the human had to turn away. 

[color=bc8dbf]"Right now I have about two dozen students, mostly from this tribe but several from others who have come to learn. There aren't many healers who have been around as long as I have."[/color] She grinned at that, her gray muzzle pulling back to reveal the worn teeth of an old carnivore.[color=bc8dbf] "We do a lot of things differently than they do in the cities. We don't let the price of business stop us from teaching our own. And we don't frighten those with magic skills into hiding. Sometimes supplies are low and we have to make do. A life on the move is rarely easy. But it can be wonderful if you let it."[/color]

Wandering about, Shenzi ducked behind the partition that separated the main area from what must have been where Asher slept, returning with a thick fur blanket that she tossed over a simple low wooden chair. She didn't sit, looking up at the orange wolf hide on the wall with some private interest.

The Healer's ears twitched and she looked back.[color=bc8dbf] "What do you mean? Do you think we would just let your skill waste away so you could busy yourself scrubbing pots and digging latrines? You will come work for me. I do not think the Swordmaster will mind."[/color] She seemed sure.

The thick leather flap of the tent rippled and the man appeared, as though summoned by the soothing fragrance of lavander in the air. Asher paused in the doorway of his own tent like a coyote hovering outside a circle of torchlight. Glancing between the two women, he scowled briefly as though he'd actually forgotten about his new acquisition.

Acquisitions, he corrected himself, glancing down at the two dark pups in his tent. He stepped inside and let the flap close. He was carrying a bundle under his arm, the outermost layer nothing more than a padded bedroll. The tent had always seemed a bit large when he was in it by himself. He couldn't recall it ever feeling this crowded, with him being the largest occupant.

[color=707070][i]"Did you fix her up?"[/i][/color] he asked the Aaenshi, speaking his own tongue. The cadence and tones were gentle, making Common seem loud and brash, and every other word or so was accompanied by a subtle gesture of his hand or a shift in posture. 

[i][color=bc8dbf]"Of course. Nothing serious. She's a brave one. I'd wager that whatever caused those slashes was enough to undo a weaker woman."[/color][/i] There was an unspoken query in Shenzi's eyes but Asher's expression hardened and he shook his head. 

[i][color=707070]"Later. What is she making? One of your sticky poultices?"[/color][/i] Asher began to unroll the bundle, setting the bedroll on the floor near the pole and revealing an oilcloth full of cooked meat, roasted potatoes, and some pumpkin bread. Moving closer to Verissa, he set the food down on the table next to the basin.

[color=bc8dbf]"One of her own, actually. She's more than capable of tending you herself. I have better things to do than stitch you up, Ash. Send her to me in the morning."[/color] The Aaenshi switched back to Common for Verissa's benefit.

Asher looked up at Verissa curiously, pleased that the woman's skill had checked out, but a little uncertain about being left alone with her so soon. Before he could say anything, Shenzi ducked out. It was well within Ash's right to ignore Shenzi's request, but the stern gaze didn't give much hint at what he intended to do.

Ash cleared his throat. [color=707070]"I brought some food for you and your dogs. I ate already."[/color] In truth he hadn't had much. The light-headedness and queasiness had killed his appetite. 

Turning from Verissa towards the mirror, he began to unbuckle his vambraces, stacking them together and setting them aside. He reached next for the blood-stained breastplate, flexing gingerly as he peeled it off and let it fall to the floor with a clang that was only slightly muffled by the leather floor. A moment later he was shrugging out of the padded vest as well, leaving him topless. His physique was as chisled and toned as could be expected, marred only by deep purple bruising over his ribs and along his arm, the singular deep gash already dark with a bloody crust and still oozing down his muscled torso. There was some hair, dark as the locks on his head, across his pecs and down below his naval. Reaching for a spare rag, Ash soaked it in what remained of the hot water and began to clean himself up, starting with his dirty face before focusing on the tender wound. It throbbed angrily, stinging sharply as he dabbed at it. 

With a surly grunt, he tossed the rag into the basin where his blood bloomed into the water and rummaged around in his cookware until he found an ale mug and set it on top of a barrel that probably held ale.