"From my understanding, children go hungry no matter how much food they are given." Good humoured, but quiet. It is a more vicious hunger in alienages though, she thinks. The likes of nobles never have that edge of starvation in them.

Herian's mouth twinges a little, the slight edge of a smile. "So you are a healer, then. Of a fashion. You help them better their craft." She rubs her knuckles along her jaw ruefully, two slow, hard swipes as she thinks. "It sounds very complicated."

Far beyond her own understanding. Herian's own healing skills were limited to elfroot is useful and following whatever strict instructions the healers gave her, and bits and pieces of memories that she'd almost sooner forget. Her nose wrinkles as she inhales the scent of another herb before dropping it - unpleasant memories tied to that one.

"Your work is to be admired, I think."