More healers? The notion that they’d suddenly become a swarming bunch of menders and nurses was an odd, perplexing measure – had they asked him years before, while he carved his way through bones and muscle, sinew and flesh, if they’d be regarded as the herd with the most nourishing, soothing beasts, he would have laughed. But he wasn’t about to send Tiamat’s newest, large parcel away; the calculations were already conniving and weaving their threads around his skull. Perhaps one day they would have need of so many tending souls – especially if they continued skirmishes, spars, practices, and eventual challenges (for power, for prestige, for honor). Who knew when the next invasion would strike? Who knew when the next bout of monsters would arrive? Who knew when the Gods would chuckle and let the skies fall upon their heads? The more soothing essences would be required, administering their herbs and dressings, their assuaging qualities (they wouldn’t be able to call upon the Lord for such duties; he wouldn’t even know where to begin – maybe with amputations?). A certain bout of curiosity bloomed around this Colossus, Kodiak (like a bear, like an ursine, mighty and strong, tough and enduring?), because he seemed inclined to move in a strange way. Was there a weakness, a vice, a defect? He wouldn’t ask the beast in front of the others – but perhaps in due time, when prowess was more than just a potential, when strength could be determined beyond a large mass and a gracious heart.
 
He said naught to Tiamat or Albrecht (though he did arch his brow at the latter; the elderly creature seemed to be everywhere at once despite his age, eventually he might pick the rank of spy solely out of necessity), brandishing the power of his words solely to the newcomer. “You are welcome to join the ranks of healers.” He paused, gesturing his skull towards the shelled mare, remembering the methods she used to counter his own lacerations and agonies. He extended compliments where they were due, bestowing assurances and layers of conduct between those feral lines drawn in the sand. “Tiamat is well versed in the art.” Then he paused, unsure, uncertain, if he was putting too much upon the mare. “You may also contact our Time Menders, Lena and Enna, for further education.” He nodded, brisk and keen, as if that put an end to the necessities. “Welcome to the Basin.”