Low tolerance

Maintaining his stance while watching Silika aid the stranger, his lips sat in a tight line. Shifting his weight and glancing between the two beasts he chuckled. How quickly the stranger healed due to Silika amazed him, truly. Except he would never allow this to show through any feature. His thoughts trailed off to think about how people like Silika would be beneficial in war; to help the wounded troops. Especially if they ever decided to take more territory and expand.

The now healed man pulled him from his thoughts by gearing a question towards himself. “Oi, the kind that kills ya’.” His voice was stern and without compassion. “Who are ye’ and whatya doing on these lands. Ye’ don’t belong hea’.” Turning his weapon so that the point was directed at his throat, he tilted his head as to push for an answer.