Still in her battle stance, flaming blade at the ready - there was no indication that they were completely safe yet - Peony sighed as she saw the fallen elf. He hadn't tried to do anything to ruin her trust yet, and alive, he was certainly better use to her than dead. Not like the...[i]Okay, what's this all about?[/i]

She watched the odd spectacle that was Ulor performing an even more odd spectacle with his tentacled companion that she wasn't sure would do much good, if it didn't mke things worse. There was no way what he was doing was sanitary.

"Could you not try to ruin people's health?" Peony's voice was raised, though her tone was one of annoyance, but she continued in a grumble almost to herself, [i]"Striking people with lightning, using the juices of ghost of a tasty lunch on a rag probably used to clean your face after eating that thing to treat wounds. Probably going to leave this place with filth fever."[/i] she walked over, sheathing her blade while she pulled her one remaining healing potion out of her belt. "If you want to heal people, do it right. Food doesn't heal wounds, no matter how tasty it is." She momentarily glared at the octospirit before presenting the potion to Ulor with a flourish, bending down to cradle the elf, and slowly pouring the liquid down his throat. "Like this."

When the elf came to, however, she whispered in his ear, "don't expect this generosity again until you earn it."