Xi’nuata kept a careful eye on the female as she adjusted her posture, watching as she not only shifted her weight but made her appearance more open. It left little to be desired in terms of an opening should conflict arise, offering a sort of ease for the warrior in that the benign intentions of the healer might have been true. Her nostrils flared with an exhale of breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, then gradually she allowed her shoulders to slump to a more relaxed posture. Her eyes remained fixed on the woman, however, they centered more on her crown than the bridge of her muzzle.
“What he could not remove…” she continued just as softly, though she skeptics edge had receded from her voice somewhat. “I pulled myself or washed them away.” Fortunately it had not taken days to remove them. Though she still found the odd broken thorn now and again, but none as paining as the ones once suffered in her eye. “But I see now where you skill comes from,” she remarked to the healer’s lineage. It was not uncommon for skill sets to pass down from generation to generation. If anything it proved that such care had its advantages. |