Sun Mote Copse dead as dead can be

She hadn't considered the fact that most witches in the stories were also healers, of sorts, until he said it.  That actually made her freeze, and then smile... because it brought with it the cool fact that maybe, one day, she could actually claim the title.  How cool would that be?  Fennec, witch of the glade.  It was her first genuine smile since Penn and it felt really, really good.

Maybe.  Fennec moved forward cautiously.  If nothing had clued him in thus far,  the fact that she moved without tracking with sight might, as might the fact that she didn't look at him when she spoke.  Instead she kept her head forward and stepped with delicate purpose, her ears constantly turning to take in his words and what it meant for his position.

Lightning, though?  She sounded skeptical.  No way.  You sound like shit, but you aren't dead.  She gave a sniff, then made a noise of distaste.  You smell too.  C'mon, there's a stream close.  She wasn't checking him until he washed some of this off.