Xen eases the young woman onto a soft bed of ferns out of the sun's constant glare.  The sound of the surf can still be made out over the cries of shore birds and the rustle of tree boughs.  The elven woman wishes she had the knowledge of her peoples' healers... still, she knows how to survive... something this half-drowned woman seems also to possess.  She sinks the tip of her axe blade into a trunk hear her head and eases the girl to a comfortable position, prone with her head tilted slightly aside in case of more gushing water.  She brushes the damp tendrils of hair from the girl's fair face, studying her for a moment.  Her sharp features and fierce glare give way to curiosity... The girl's clothes may be undamaged, certainly, but the barbarian can scarcely imagine being able to breath in such confining garb... the poor girl could barely wriggle her toes in those boots, and she needs to be less confined.<br/><br/>Easing the leather sheaths from the girl's feet, she notes the marking between her breasts... Some kind of flying serpent or some such, it would seem.   Probably a mark of her tribe, Xen supposed, though it gives her little pause other than curiosity.  The frail human seems so unfit for this place, Xen thinks as she loosens the girl's breeches at her waist.  Oh, yes, the temptation to appreciate that difference is there.  Once the young woman's waist is less constricted, she draws back her hands and sits on her haunches, watching the leaf-screened sun dapple the young woman's form.  From her pack, she pulls a leather water-skin... the salt water may cause more sickness yet, but best give her a chance... she moves to her knees in the sandy soil and sprinkles a few drops over her lips.<br/><br/>"My name is Xenathiel," she says softly.  Out of caution, she glances over her shoulder and scans the hinterland scrub-trees for any sign of life.  There is temptation to remove the girl's shredded tunic... it is doing her little good as it stands... however, she thinks twice on that.  Like the villagers, this woman seemed... well, village-ish.  They were sensitive there about such things.  So, instead, she pours a small splash of the cool water onto her long, slender fingers and brushes them tenderly over the bruises that riddle the woman's torso.<i>What the hell causes wounds like this..?</i>