Vena scowls at him and a defense of the old woman is on the tip of her tongue if she can just unscramble enough to think of what to start with. Then she thinks, if he doesn't like it here and he doesn't like Sister Lashan, even if that's objectively wrong, he won't stay anyway.

"When are you leaving then?" Her eyes stray to his shoulder. Some of the bandaging is visible through the deep V-neck of his borrowed shirt. "It's when you heal and can use your arm more, right? Or do you want my teacher to fix your... your sword wife thing?"

Healing goes better here than with that army encampment where she was born. Faster, and cleaner, and the wounds don't go bad. That's about the extent of her knowledge on that subject, except that she's also heard that sleeping helps.