"You don't know?" she seemed genuinely puzzled, furrowing her brow as she continued about her business, checking his other minor injuries with her hand, that same, barely noticeable static prickling at his skin. She had sat on the edge of his bed at this point, the box of tools and such on his bedside table. She could feel many of the deeper problems, like sprains and fractures, were healing at a normal rate.<br/><br/>"I thought it was I who should be confused, not you... you were brought here in the middle of the night half dead, looking like you'd been dragged from a ship wreck..." she rummaged for something in the box, a metal instrument he wouldn't recognize. Carefully, she began to pull out the stitches he had broken when he woke, just above his hip and stretching to his lower back. She carefully turned him to his side as she did so. Strangely, she did not hurt him as she moved him. It was like she knew where all his damaged areas were and could avoid stressing them.<br/><br/>"Hold still now, most of these have to come out..." it wouldn't be as painful as her treatment to his gash, but it was a longer process.<br/><br/>"You have heard of Heroines, I hope?" many knew the stories of Heroines, women of great power who fought corruption and evil where ever it was they drifted to, or dutifully protected their own areas from it. A local legion from his region spoke of a woman, The Gray Ghost, who was so skilled with the bow she could catch an arrow in flight, knock it and then fire it between the shooters eyes in one fluid movement. She was one of the mysterious and fabled Heroines, and a legend that Milo would most certainly know.<br/><br/>"This place is very important... its where many of those Heroines learned to be what they are. I'm surprised you were permitted here at all"