Raymond cast a veiled, lopsided smile at the section of the young mare's face she saw fit to expose to the open air as she answered, his overall demeanor adopting an air of polite attentiveness.
Are you frome here?
Briefly he weighed the cost-benefit ratio of lying and saying that he was. The question suggested that she herself was not a Denoctean, or was so new to the title that she had yet to familiarize herself with the locals. If that were the case, he may well have been able to pass easily as a native son of Denocte, but the leverage it afforded him would likely be having the privilege of pretending to know a lot of things that he didn't. In essence, it amounted to no leverage at all.
"Just visiting," Raymond replied with a slight shake of his head. As relaxed as he sounded, there might have been a family reunion not fifty paces off, where everyone knew his name and considered him family. There wasn't, but there might have been.
Casting a glance over the rest of her, submerged as it was, and noting the faint whorl of red leeching into the waters around her wounded haunches, he added, "I can do something about those cuts for you though, if you'd like."
Raymond was no healer, but all rendari warriors knew at the very least how to field dress a knife-wound. Such practical knowledge could very well mean the difference between life and death, and his brief bout with Pavetta had given him a bit more nuanced understanding of the process. It was the least he could do, knowing he would probably end up lecturing her at some point in the future about getting caught unawares in the first place.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
@Hydra
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
