She nodded at his agreement to speak the language, trying to keep her resolve strong at this entirely new life. So many new things to learn, so many things to forget and leave behind. She was grateful that he took the time to do this for her, and she almost smiled, for even though she was a slave, at least she got the pick of the litter when it came to masters it seemed. She was so focused on trying to translate his latest words that their meaning hit her a bit later. Nodding again now, she knew they were both quite reluctant in this situation. He had to take her, or risk losing face and rank in his tribe. But trying to make her happy? That was entirely unexpected.

Verissa gently handed over the staff, and frowned when she saw him setting to throw it. It was just a stick, but it felt like it was hers, if only for a brief moment. When it landed in his, no, their cart though, she actually did smile momentarily. Especially at the words that followed. He really was putting forth a lot of effort to make her comfortable and welcomed. She needed to repay him, not just in word, but in action. He stepped away to leave, and she smiled from behind him. She'd always heard the saying about clouds and silver linings, but had never really experienced it until now. 

She followed quickly, catching up, her smile fading to a more neutral expression, listening intently. She noticed that he had a different manner of speaking when he was teaching rather than just conversing. When he said marry, and then translated it, she felt her stomach tighten. But she relaxed after hearing him continue. Then her heart broke a little for the man. He'd lost his first wife. She wondered how, and how long ago. When he told her of the second method, she nodded again, [color=f6989d][b]"Yes, you did. Thank you."[/b][/color] She tried to sound less cold and more sincere this time when she spoke. She knew that he must still be hurting, no matter how long ago his wife's death had been. 

When he explained the Hunt to her, she knew that this would have to be her way out. She'd never killed anything before, but that was Trix. Verissa would have to learn, and learn well. That meant embracing the lifestyle, learning her weapon, finding an edge. She had years of inexperience to make up for. She needed to throw herself into everything, into all the valuable traits. Into her most valuable, and secret trait. She needed to practice her magic. If one thing could shore up her disadvantage, it was that. 

She was picking up some of the smaller boxes and bags alongside Asher, watching him closely. She was concerned about the weight of what he was lifting. Helping to organize the cart was easy, as it seemed Asher had a premeditated system, having traveled many times before. When he pulled off his shirt, she could see the seepage on his bandages and stood there arms crossed. Her gaze was stern, her hips cocked to one side. 

She didn't care in the moment if she struggled with the language, she'd plucked out two words she was fairly confident she knew. [color=f6989d][b]"No. Happy."[/b][/color]

She moved up to him, trying to not stair at the glistening skin that was exposed, taking a firm hold of his hand, clearly to not be deterred. She pulled him into his mostly bare tent, not noticing a couple men outside staring as Asher was manhandled by his newest female slave. She pulled him to a crate, the chairs and table packed away, pushing him gently to a sitting position. She was tutting, grabbing her unpacked kit, her pace clearly agitated. Once she had the remaining salve and clean bandages ready, she realized she didn't know the words she needed to convey. [color=f6989d][b]"How do you say, 'Arms up.'?"[/b][/color] Once he told her, she would repeat it back, then untuck the bandage from itself, gently peeling it from his skin. Once his stitches were exposed she eyed them, prodding and gently tugging at them, ignoring any discomfort it might have caused. Satisfied that they were holding just fine, she smoothed some salve over them, and rebandaged him. 

She cleaned up, keeping a stern eye on him, not ready to let him up yet. She filled a pot with water and set it to boiling on the unpacked oven. She asked what each item was called in Kvaren as she worked. She cut the potatoes into chunks, sliced the onion in half, sliced the carrots, tossing them all in. She ripped chunks of the leftover meat and tossed them in, then got into her herb bag, and dropped in sprinklings of thyme, rosemary, and some red wine. It wouldn't be great, but it would be a halfway decent stew. She asked him how to say everything she asked him in Kvaren, then repeated it back to him. [color=f6989d][b]"Let's finish what we can. If it's too heavy, I will help, and you will ask me to. You need to be strong for the Gathering. Can't be strong if not healed. Then we eat."[/b][/color] 

A part of her liked this taking charge side of her. She'd never dared done that before, and was wondering what brought it about now. A few times during the additional packing she stirred the stew, but once the spoon slipped into the water depths. She didn't have any other utensils on hand and looked around to see if she was being watched. Fairly certain she wasn't, she pushed her magic out of her left hand, and applied it like a cream to her her right, temporarily glowing lavender, her thoughts asking to not be burned. Once her entire hand was covered, she finished the magic, and it Shield disappeared from sight. She put her hand over the pot, in the steam, not feeling the heat whatsoever. Smiling, she gingerly touched the boiling water at the surface. She could feel the water, but it was as if it were simply room temperature. She slipped her hand into the depths, until she felt the spoon. she plucked it out and went back to stirring, as if nothing had happened.