Though perhaps it was only out of necessity, or a pain-induced sense of delirium and vulnerability, Ashamin appreciated when the stranger's attitude seemed to become less, well, hostile. When Ashamin found himself encouraged to change his habits, he only smiled and shook his head in dissent. "How else would I have company for quiet walks like these?" He said in jest, referencing their eerily silent journey. His eyes softened then, his gaze focused.

"I try to be good, stranger. It's a hard thing, and I'm not sure what it means. Maybe it's offering help to those who try to deny it, or maybe it's leaving them to die. I know that I've failed at finding out, and I've failed many times. But I've also found that it's useless to stop trying, regardless of the situation and how others might see you for it." His tail, long and unappealing, curled forward to skim the surface of the water once Ryouta's features had lifted from it. A few stray sparks skittered over the surface, disturbing its stillness. Maybe Ashamin would have said more, would have acknowledged the strange confession that this unwelcoming stag had teased from betwixt his lips, but at that moment Lochan's approach grew louder and more distinct.

Ashamin the Clovenheart turned then from his failures and his shame--from his memories of Ovidius' blood face and the earthen mare's dead child. Despite the fact that he'd known Seanan longer than this dying pegasus, Ashamin did not feel as if they had a relationship where he could reveal such vulnerable thoughts. Erasing all sense of trepidation from his expression, he greeted Seanan with a grateful smile and an extension of his cheek.

"Seanan, I am glad Lochan found you. I'm sorry if you were interrupted in your wanderings, but you can imagine that this was urgent," he said, his tone needlessly apologetic. Was it Seanan's lack of greeting that had made the painted buck feel the need to overcompensate? No, surely Ashamin need not feel strange around an ally. Nevertheless, he felt uncomfortable. Seanan was... prickly, to say the least.

In an attempt to focus on the task at hand, Ashamin motioned towards the herbs. "Would you mind telling me about your process? Perhaps next time I could use the knowledge to heal another, when you are not so fortunately near," Ashamin asked, genuine in his curiosity but unsure in his memory. Luckily Lochan had an eye for, well, everything; if the Clovenheart let the name or the shape of the healing herbs slip his mind, the little eye would know enough to make up for it.

The stag quieted then, letting the pegasus speak for himself. The stranger seemed better after drinking some water, but Ashamin would be glad to learn something about healing. His magic healed his own wounds but not others, and he'd been foolish enough to ignore all the times Tiamat had brought him herbs after spars in the past.

""