Ravensblood Forest Each time unknown words come to mind

Unit 2. Front liner. Screech’s assumption seemed correct, though it was a strange name to him. As if they had been faceless. Even when he had spent the time with the proud warriors of Tartok, they had not felt so cold in name. Anore, they had called him, after his father. For the wind. He blinked then, pulling himself from these thoughts before he could dwell upon whether or not Lasher would find pride in his son’s life thus far.
 
“What’s your name?” He was more interested in who she was, rather than hearing about a commander whose name meant nothing to him. Falling Grace. He withheld any assumptions of her previous life, instead, his eyes rove over the burns upon her, and his gaze softened. The pack was new and without a healer – not only that, but given the winter, they had no collection of herbs or plants in which to aide her that he knew of. But his family had been druids – healers, at that, and he was not without some minor knowledge. But first, he needed more from her.. and then a place for her to rest.