"They'd better not try anything while I'm down," she grumbles. "Oh, yes, it's mostly up to the archers to scare the vermin off, but you still want swordswomen, and the best after me are merely decent." For all Lashan's self-deprecation, she's not burdened by false modesty. She was a career fighter, and in this cold land that just doesn't seem to be regarded as an option for women, so her Sisters just don't have that kind of experience. Here mixed-gender enclaves of the Twins have barely any fighting women at all, which is one of the reasons she's here at one that does not traditionally accept men.

Her fingers itch as Guts addresses the most pressing wound and here, let me do it is on the tip of her tongue. Lashan busies herself gathering the dishware up and stacked on the tray she brought it in on instead. Privileges of age and position mean she can get children to do a lot of chores, including bringing and taking away the tray when she's not entirely steady on two feet, but it's good manners to not leave them more work than they must.

It was ground in to Lashan early that you never let people know that you have any insight into their thoughts. There was actually a whole ethical code about it on the plains, when and where it was appropriate to use at all, but taking her ability for every advantage it can give her is what's let her survive to today. Dryly she says, "You can see why we'd balk at arming you, I hope. Even if it's peacebonded, you've given a lot of people a scare."