[Whether at his comfort or his care, she musters a smile.]

I'd be a poor healer if I couldn't heal myself. I'll be fine in a moment.

[He may or may not notice the faint steam rising up from her burned skin as it repairs itself, less thick than it would be for a deeper wound.

Letting her gaze wander across the Flaming Grasslands, she hesitantly shares her thoughts.]

I wonder if we should pursue and... kill the imps.

[It's tempting to use a euphemism, such as neutralise, all the more since he's a soldier, but that's what she's trying to get away from. How much suffering lay behind any Military Police report of suspected traitors having "been neutralised" or "passed away in custody" back home? The least she can do is acknowledge the reality of her decisions' consequences.]

I could scout them from above - flying is one of our seasonal powers -, and you could...

[She can't quiet finish the sentence. How convenient that once again, she has somebody else to do the dirty work for her! She shakes her head.]

On second thought, we've done enough. The people ought to be aware of the danger already and should avoid this area.