The mare does not grovel on bended knee in thanks for his information, and he deflates slightly like a pricked balloon. "Oh." Damn, he'd really thought that he'd been offering excellent, top-secret knowledge. "I am from the mountains and the forests - I can tell you which plants sting, but not which sea-dwelling jelly-demons to avoid." He glances back along the beach, where his dragons are still devouring the dead jellyfish with a feral hunger. Even when the tentacles flip up and touch them, their scales seem immune to the sting. Lucky fuckers.

She asks for his nose, and he shakes his head, assuming she's going to place some balm upon it. This notion offends his masculine feels, as he prides himself on never seeking a healer for his battle-wounds. He believes that fighting is a pact, one that must be seen through to the end - he must wear his injuries until the end, and let them heal of their own accord. Although his encounter with the jellyfish wasn't technically a battle (and if it was, then at least he can rest assured that he arose the victor, with his opponent now rotting in the stomachs of his companions), the point still stands. "It's quite alright, I'll survive," he begins to object, but the motion of his voice brings his head downwards and suddenly there's fire blossoming across the injured area. He snorts, taken aback, but quickly realises that the flames are healing, not hurting - the pain ebbs away to nothing, and relief surges through him.

He hadn't wanted healing, but he doesn't forget his manners. "Thank you," he says, ever so politely - his gruff baritone is quite at odds with the humble words being spoken in it. She asks if Zhu has mentioned that she is the healer for the Throat, and he tilts his head with interest. "No, he hasn't mentioned it, to my knowledge - that is quite the title. Have you lived in the Throat long?" Smalltalk disgusts him, but another part of his vow (that includes attending the births of all of his children, then caring for them throughout their lives) involves trying to get to know the mothers of his offspring. After all, their blood runs in the veins of his foals, so he is keen to know what the mares themselves are like.

Her final sentence causes his eyes to nearly boggle out of his head. "Urinate on it? That helps? I didn't know piss had healing properties." To think, he's wasted so much of the stuff staking his claim on trees and lands, he could have been using it to heal!