"Aye, that it will." Herian stands aside, as if she were somehow blocking the entire stream. Her brow catches in a slight furrow, and she dips her hands into a a leather pack hanging from her side, until she finds a small jar.
Her tone is not without sympathy. Taking a number of elves from the city slums through rough country they had not visited prior? There had been a good many flora and fauna related incidents. Perhaps the woman was of a city.
"This, as well." The jar itself contains a thick balm that smells of beeswax, honey and lavender, and some other more complicated mix of herbs. By way of explanation, "the balm will prevent any sores, if applied with haste after your hands are bathed and dried."
no subject
Her tone is not without sympathy. Taking a number of elves from the city slums through rough country they had not visited prior? There had been a good many flora and fauna related incidents. Perhaps the woman was of a city.
"This, as well." The jar itself contains a thick balm that smells of beeswax, honey and lavender, and some other more complicated mix of herbs. By way of explanation, "the balm will prevent any sores, if applied with haste after your hands are bathed and dried."