Pya followed her sister closely, her hand on her sword ready to draw it if necessary. She looked all around her, making sure they weren't followed. As they passed by one tent, she saw a man laying on a cot. Tapping her sister, she motioned that she was going to check on him. It was impulse to check on the wounded, regardless if they were hostile or not.<br/>Pya walked into the tent and over to the man who was wounded. His left leg was bandaged poorly up and it was swollen. A look of pitty crossed her face,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Let me heal you solider.</span>Pya reached into her satchel of herbs and grabbed a few that were known to reduce swelling and infection. Speaking in Latin, she said,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Bind these wounds and heal. Keep this solider away from infection. Heal this limb.</span>His leg glowed a faint yellow and then it vanished. Pya unwrapped the bandage.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">You'll have to keep off of it for a few hours, but you should be fine.</span>Nodding and giving him a small encouraging smile, she went back out to rejoin her sister.