Sun Physician. The title made the blue vagabond a little ill-at-ease, which was a all the more irksome to him in it's unfamiliarity. As someone who always comported himself with an easy air of confidence (or at least a lack of concern) Mercutio didn't like to admit himself even slightly unnerved, but he was currently suffering from an onslaught of the effects of Impostor Syndrome. For one, the style placed upon his name implied a deep knowledge of healing arts, and that simply wasn't the case. He had a good base, a journeyman's knowledge, but he wasn't a master of the trade; of all the many plants he'd used to tend his and other's ailments he knew the proper names for less than half of them, and that was not to mention that he had now been granted the power to heal through flame of all things. Mercutio had no experience with magic, to him it had always been a distant idea for for more dogmatic beings, for those that gods or pure coincidence deemed special, and now he'd been given it at the drop of a hoof. These desert-dwellers are all mad!

The stallion had hovered at the meeting place, taking stock of his new herd with steady amber eyes before setting himself to a new range of tasks. First, he thought to asses immidiat need, existing injuries. From what Cera had said the herd had been without a healer and his friend could not be tho only one who had been left suffering for the lack. Second, learning the understand the Sun God's magic (if he could even begin to believe that someone as forsaken as himself coul wield such a gift. Third would have to meet with the other new healers, the girl with the death-mask and the snow-speckled mare, and so he'd given a respectful nod to each. The beast hoped they could be relied upon for teaching him a little more about this place, and for leaving it in their care once it was time for him to leave.

It could not be denied that he wanted to help--Mercutio didn't like to leave anything to suffer if he could something about it-- there was an officiality to his acceptance into this fold that sparked a tiny flair of panic in his heart. He hadn't been part of a herd since... well it had been a long time. Tempted by a stunning golden lure, he now found himself committed something and that, to Mercutio, was a well known recipe for mutual disappointment. It eased him to know he had consigned only to the temporary appointment, so the vagabond would do what he can, enjoy what there was to be enjoyed here (namely a certain Forger's company) and he  would move on. An it harm none. "Any who need healing should come forward, let me tend you." His voice rolled out with a deep resonating timbre, calmer than it might have been as he slipped into the no-nonsense roll of Mercutio the healer-his old role of battlefield nurse was always a comforting cloak to wear.

mercutio
the history books forgot about us
and the bible didn't mention us