the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
"Sore muscles or even a sore mind are still a type of hurt," Amhran says easily; relaxing is just as necessary as traditional healing, after all, and the fact that the springs can provide both is a boon he often finds himself admiring. "And it's alright - it wasn't a very deep cut. But I was using shears that might have been dirty with soil, so..." So it's better to be safe than sorry, and as he wipes at his palm with the sleeve of his coat, the cut has already dissolved away.
It's at about that time that a ningo whumps down nearby; Amhran likely would have paid it no mind (the things are everywhere) were it not for the glimmer of fire that draws his attention. More than fire, even - living fire, and the woman is addressing it directly. "Is that a... a fire elemental?" he asks, before memory puts two and two together; there are very few people indeed with companions like that. "Forgive me but... are you the Keeper of the First Flame?"
It's at about that time that a ningo whumps down nearby; Amhran likely would have paid it no mind (the things are everywhere) were it not for the glimmer of fire that draws his attention. More than fire, even - living fire, and the woman is addressing it directly. "Is that a... a fire elemental?" he asks, before memory puts two and two together; there are very few people indeed with companions like that. "Forgive me but... are you the Keeper of the First Flame?"
