Hideaway Strath you were never meant to be a tragedy

"Ah," the healer rasped softly, as if she understood. Truthfully, she wished to ask him what 'steeped' meant, as it too was foreign on her ears, but rather than ply him for ceaseless definitions and explanations, Aerin again resolved herself to asking but one. "Vould ye show me sometime -- 'ow to make this tea?" Then, by way of elaboration, the Acolyte tacked on: "I vas trained as a 'ealer in my childhood an' I 'ave served many Masters as a medic and midvife but I 'ave never 'eard anything like ze things ye speak of." Her argent optics were open and unguarded for once, excited as she was to meet a medicinal colleague, revealing a hint of her amazement at Vein's revolutionary techniques. "I vould very much like to know more -- if'n ye are villing to teach, of course." Some cultures differed, perhaps there was some taboo in his homeland that prevented him from teaching women or outsiders in general. 

"Oh, I 'ad not considered that.." she trailed off, considering the unpleasant smell of the earth-warmed pools, unfamiliar as she was with the whole idea of tea. She lit up considerably when Vein readily agreed, surveying the area with a few keen sweeps of his molten gaze. She too cast a cursory glance about them, though she knew she had seen no water sources but the river that flowed through the Hinterlands and into the valley of the Strath. "Ze caves, I think.." she murmured uncertainly -- realizing for the first time that it would mean going back into the dark. 

Her brows pinched together with a sudden spur of anxiety, gaze dropping as she tried to get a grip. She was Aerin, a Saint, now. Saints feared nothing -- not even skeletons in the closet or monsters under the bed. Besides, Vein would be with her.

"Zere are no 'ot springs out 'ere zat I 'ave seen but maybe we vill 'ave better luck vithin ze mouintains. I donnae often venture into them."