She watches the peach pit skitter off without comment and uses both hands to pour warm steaming water, tinted with a muslin bag of herbs, out into an ewer. Hesri then goes back to unwinding bandages, alternating one hand and the other, feeling a little warmly blurred by the medicine.

"Huh. I hadn't thought of that." Maybe she shouldn't be telling The Boy about another girl's idle, speculative half-plans half-daydreams. "She's from a gang of thieves originally, actually, that operated out of a city in Volkfeld. My hometown in fact."

Albion, not that she's going to say it was Albion. There are several other kingdoms between here and Volkfeld and it took quite some time to get from there to here, the Enclave of Irminsul, but there's no telling how far Guts has traveled and what, if anything, he's heard about any fires. It's been three years now. She thinks Volkfeld has been annexed in the mean time, but she wasn't and isn't clear on the distinction between a state and a country.

She pauses. Wait. Surely... "Oh, no, I never told you my name, did I? Agh... okay, it's Hestienne, but the little kids started calling me Hesri and that's stuck. Pleased to meet you."