Roge has to bite back his annoyance at the woman's unspoken response, cradling her close to his chest as he heads for the door and out into the scorched plain.  He narrows his eyes against the glare, "Yes, I am an Orc and you are welcome."  He was surprised with himself, things were going perfectly and still he was annoyed.  He should be relieved that everything was going smoothly, pleased that she feared him, but there was a nagging bit of resentment at her loathing.<br/><br/>Well, so be it.  It was something he could use for later.  "I will tend to your wounds as soon as we find cover, but your rags will need to go.  They are stained and useless... and I have a little bit of water I can spare for you."  The tread, even barefooted as he was, was nice and even and other than an occasional bounce the orc was very careful not to jar his burned 'companion' too often.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>