He steps close, away from the herbs, so he can start to look through the kit. It's impressive, far more than he sees carried by anyone that isn't calling themselves a doctor or healer. Slowly he looks through the little pots, sniffing carefully, raising an eyebrow at the blood, before tucking them back in.

"A few things, but this is impressive. Did you have a teacher, or is this from books?" Anders moves to the side to pull a couple of things from shelves. Some of what he's selecting she likely wouldn't have had access to before, magic-enhanced potions and salves. "...And would you like a teacher for learning to make other things? I've discovered I enjoy teaching."

He also particularly enjoys when somehow someone he'd pissed off can talk civilly with him again. It's a rare occurrence, made all the rarer by how little he tries to pursue reconciliation. Trying, after all, feels like an admission of weakness, like he wants approval or appreciation or the like. He does. He just doesn't like showing that.