"I don't owe you anything," Jigano pointed out reasonably, in a courteous tone. "And frankly I'm not sure you should be trusted with it right now anyways. You already lost it once, after all." He leaned a shoulder against his own wall, keeping her approved distance between them, and crossed his arms over his chest - more to keep from trying to reach out and help her than anything else. It also kept his hands in sight and away from his weapon, in an attempt to soothe her paranoia. Not that he could blame her, given her sorry state. Something or someone had done that to her, and the head wound might have addled her past normal rationality.
"It's spring here," he offered as her story trailed off. "And we do have brigands, but frankly it's the banshees and the stone golems you should be more worried about. Or the Land Shark. Though it fed during the winter so hopefully it'll hibernate for a while longer. You generally don't have to worry about head trauma with that one, though." You didn't have to worry about anything. Being devoured whole didn't tend to leave much room for recriminations, and he still shivered at the thought of the great beast's teeth closing around the massive wolf as if it were a one-bite appetizer. But he spoke mostly to keep her awake and paying attention than any real belief that she'd remember his words in a week's time.
"I would not have," Jigano stated pleasantly, just as calm and factual as she as he reached up to rub at something behind his neck. "On account of knowing when my pride is getting me killed, and telling it to go to hell so I can let others help me." Oh, he was a paranoid ass, but she made him look downright Remi-like! It was an odd comparison to consider, and he chuckled softly to himself. The chuckle turned to a sigh as she struggled out of her cloak, again refusing to ask for help, and he turned his head a little mournfully to look out at the rain so she would not have a witness to her humiliation as the cloak nearly bested her.
"We have magical healers, here, as well as some very good traditionally-trained medics," he said dryly. "And your wounds were probably less infected before you went slithering through the mud. You're just making more work for yourself by the time we finally get you to the Infirmary. Your body is still going to have to do the heavy lifting of knitting itself back together, even if Vai or Isla mend the worst of it with their magecraft." He glanced back to arch a silvery brow at her, smiling crookedly. "I'm probably going to get sent for efas herb to bring down your fever and clean out those injuries, so on a personal note I'd appreciate you making less work for me while you're at it." One thing a bard knew was that different people required different approaches. There were those who responded best to gentleness, and others who would only respect strength. This girl, he judged by her arrogance, might respect a rational and pragmatic approach... or at least, she would if the head wound wasn't making a hash of her mental faculties. But either way, he had no intention of letting her bully him, no matter the size of the personality in her drowned-kitten body.
"It's spring here," he offered as her story trailed off. "And we do have brigands, but frankly it's the banshees and the stone golems you should be more worried about. Or the Land Shark. Though it fed during the winter so hopefully it'll hibernate for a while longer. You generally don't have to worry about head trauma with that one, though." You didn't have to worry about anything. Being devoured whole didn't tend to leave much room for recriminations, and he still shivered at the thought of the great beast's teeth closing around the massive wolf as if it were a one-bite appetizer. But he spoke mostly to keep her awake and paying attention than any real belief that she'd remember his words in a week's time.
"I would not have," Jigano stated pleasantly, just as calm and factual as she as he reached up to rub at something behind his neck. "On account of knowing when my pride is getting me killed, and telling it to go to hell so I can let others help me." Oh, he was a paranoid ass, but she made him look downright Remi-like! It was an odd comparison to consider, and he chuckled softly to himself. The chuckle turned to a sigh as she struggled out of her cloak, again refusing to ask for help, and he turned his head a little mournfully to look out at the rain so she would not have a witness to her humiliation as the cloak nearly bested her.
"We have magical healers, here, as well as some very good traditionally-trained medics," he said dryly. "And your wounds were probably less infected before you went slithering through the mud. You're just making more work for yourself by the time we finally get you to the Infirmary. Your body is still going to have to do the heavy lifting of knitting itself back together, even if Vai or Isla mend the worst of it with their magecraft." He glanced back to arch a silvery brow at her, smiling crookedly. "I'm probably going to get sent for efas herb to bring down your fever and clean out those injuries, so on a personal note I'd appreciate you making less work for me while you're at it." One thing a bard knew was that different people required different approaches. There were those who responded best to gentleness, and others who would only respect strength. This girl, he judged by her arrogance, might respect a rational and pragmatic approach... or at least, she would if the head wound wasn't making a hash of her mental faculties. But either way, he had no intention of letting her bully him, no matter the size of the personality in her drowned-kitten body.
