"That would be a start," she sounds close to relieved, curiosity peaked. She can use all that, provided he can share enough for her to experiment. Those were everyday herbs, but with the right combination, even a weed can channel enough power.
Provided there's anything left in the greenhouse, too.
No, this isn't pleasant. Honestly, it sucks, and her hand clenches at the flannel fabric to stop herself from considering shoving him away at a particularly stinging pull, though makes little sound of protest otherwise, eyes sliding shut.
"I'll admit, you've a careful hand," the remark does come a little breathless as she looks down at the results of his efforts. It will make it easier to work with, and, for all intents and purposes, no dying from infection!
"I don't know," she replies with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "I've yet to meet anyone from the same place." When he looks to be done, she'll lower the shirt. "But portal magic like this is - difficult." Not impossible. Hardly anything is, but: "And not without its price. And I pissed off enough people for some to want me dead."
Alright, her priorities may appear skewed. But the last few days were strange. "As for the war? Powers rise and fall. It's all the same bullshit." She shifts, moves to rise. She had been satisfied with watching it all from the sidelines, unfolding like a hurricane. Nilfgaard is a joke until it used dark magic. Until it had Fringilla, and the zealous White Flame. "We were outnumbered. It was stupid to try. But we did anyway, and we go close. So close."
A look down at her hands. Clean now, from blood and soot. "I didn't expect to be removed from it. Shame. I would've wanted to see the ashes. And I'm pissed off that something had enough power to do this." And that it wasn't her, but, she leaves that out, not even thinking for a second that talk of magic might sound strange to someone else.
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Provided there's anything left in the greenhouse, too.
No, this isn't pleasant. Honestly, it sucks, and her hand clenches at the flannel fabric to stop herself from considering shoving him away at a particularly stinging pull, though makes little sound of protest otherwise, eyes sliding shut.
"I'll admit, you've a careful hand," the remark does come a little breathless as she looks down at the results of his efforts. It will make it easier to work with, and, for all intents and purposes, no dying from infection!
"I don't know," she replies with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "I've yet to meet anyone from the same place." When he looks to be done, she'll lower the shirt. "But portal magic like this is - difficult." Not impossible. Hardly anything is, but: "And not without its price. And I pissed off enough people for some to want me dead."
Alright, her priorities may appear skewed. But the last few days were strange. "As for the war? Powers rise and fall. It's all the same bullshit." She shifts, moves to rise. She had been satisfied with watching it all from the sidelines, unfolding like a hurricane. Nilfgaard is a joke until it used dark magic. Until it had Fringilla, and the zealous White Flame. "We were outnumbered. It was stupid to try. But we did anyway, and we go close. So close."
A look down at her hands. Clean now, from blood and soot. "I didn't expect to be removed from it. Shame. I would've wanted to see the ashes. And I'm pissed off that something had enough power to do this." And that it wasn't her, but, she leaves that out, not even thinking for a second that talk of magic might sound strange to someone else.