Guts thought he would get used to the staring a week in, but girls always find a way to make him feel … weird? Embarrassed? He is more accustomed to being dismissed for being a lone whelp with no status to speak of.

Avoiding the peanut gallery to focus on the Sister Apothecary instead, he answers her questions agreeably enough as she examines the injuries with a practiced eye and hand. She was right, in the end. He was incredibly lucky to only be battered rather than dead. It wouldn’t be the first time a surgeon has told him this. The change in her expression was notable as she says this, but he figures there’s no sense no dwelling on it. He would risk his life again soon enough. That was his line of work, after all.

The boy simply nods and takes the herbs, giving the top of the bag a curious sniff or two.

“Smells nice…” he adds. The Infirmary tended to have plenty of pleasant herbal scents abound. The blood and rot of the battlefield hadn’t infected this place.

On his way to the basin he briefly looks at Lashan, as if wanting to say something, but reconsiders it given the crowd of Sisters around her. Maybe another time.

Faler gets a quiet ‘Thanks’ for her assistance, slipping behind the screen to wash the dried blood off his body. Fastidious as a cat, just as she said.