the journey calls

His gambit worked, surprisingly, and Ashmedai flashed his belly in a traditional gesture of submission, putting an immediately halt to Tornach's motion. He stood panting a moment before he could answer, though he did give a shy smile at the boy's compliments - a smile that faded into a wince as it tugged at the wounds on his jaw. "Thank you, Ashmedai, I'm all right," he returned finally as equilibrium returned. "You're really good - where did you get trained?" he added curiously, then took a slow step toward him to examine his injured cheek. "Would you like me to look at your wounds for you? I'm a healer - I mean, I know a bit of healing, I'm not anywhere near a trained healer, and I wouldn't be offended if you'd rather go to someone else," he amended quickly, not wanting to seem like a liar particularly in front of his mother whose presence had just registered in his mind.