Redsand Canyon her flesh held the scent of honeysuckle drenched in battle

There's a tint of surprise on her marred features as she leans into the kindest touch she's received since leaving her mother's side so many years ago. Her first kiss. Maybe it's not quite upon her lips but electricity crackles against her skin regardless, a path of sparks tingling along the trail of his tongue long after he's drawn back. 

The herbologist pushes it from her mind as he speaks again. She smiles up at him but it seems wan, tired. The words ghost across her tongue, waiting to be breathed to life.

She wants to tell him that nobody's safe in this world. No one can protect anyone. That the druids were wrong; they are just pawns in a cruel world, destined to suffer. 

But somehow, looking at the titan's solemn face and hearing the firm resolution in his words - she believes him.

"I can stay? Truly?" she asks. The Saluki is a little too wounded for much movement but her paws pit-pat an excited tune against the sand and her sweeping tail twitches as if it would desperately like to wag. 

Then her face falters a bit. From what she's gathered the Saints are akin to the Ravine - minus the focus on slavery and trafficking. Fen doesn't seem like the first choice for a candidate. 

"I vill need ta learn ta fight," she murmurs, something like determination or perhaps eagerness in her tones. She'd been denied the chance to learn for most of her life and looked forward to being able to protect herself. 

"But I do 'ave other skills. In me first posting I vas used as an agent. It vas my job to infiltrate me Master's enemies - gather intel, steal zings sometimes, or even poison zeir waterways." Once, it was an occupation she was unproud of but now it was nothing more than a means to serve the Saints. 

"I learned ta 'eal zere an' I 'ave spent ze past two vinters of me life as a midvife." It was only unfortunate that the Saints didn't yet have any expectant mothers or little ones she might care for. 

"An' as fer me third posting...vell it is nae something I vould feel comfortable offering ta yer pack," her gaze dropped as she shifted slightly. Then a thought struck her.

"But...if'n ye should decide ta refrain from siring pups come spring...an' ye are in need of experienced mothers ta bring forth ze next generation of Saints, I vould be most 'onored ta be considered as a candidate," she nodded once, firmly, somberly. 

She could worry about the conception later if it was even something to worry about. She had months to heal and get to know her new comrades - including whatever male might be chosen in such a scenario. As it was, she was simply too tired to fret over a situation that may not even happen. 

"I vould be 'onored ta repay ye in any way I can." She smiled again at him, this time with gratitude. "An' zank ye again..fer saving my life," she lilted as she brushed her cheek against the hollow of his pale throat with a soft rumble of appreciation.