Carefully, she watches him. It's like watching a bug caught under glass, the boy is... odd. Almost like a science experiment, and she's glad that he's not trapped behind glass. Was this what other wolves her age were like? He smelled like the solution her aunt used to wash out wounds only... worse. And he didn't seem to be wounded, although he did look like he'd been beaten up pretty badly. Hung over, he said, but was he sure that he hadn't been in a fight?
At least he seemed grateful enough. Bless the gods... could she be a god? Meadow had read about them in her books. Gods of light, of poetry, of love, of war. There should be a god for healers, but Meadow would need to do more reading. Maybe that's what she'd look for when she was back inside. Right, she has a patient for now. He'd asked her a question. Meadow nodded, she lived in the castle. The girl fixed him with an inquiring glance right back.
Who was he, where had he come from, why was he here? All valid questions, though most of them... probably could be answered with a little critical thinking. Where else would a drunk yearling who showed up at random come from? The Hallows mission was to render aid, and here she was, doing some rendering. Was there more malicious implications to a pirate turning up? Should she be sitting this close to him? Shoot. Meadow would try to bite back her anxiety for a little while longer.
