Vlast is useful on these types of excursions; he's quiet, keeps to himself, is quite at home in the wilderness, and alert enough to be one of the first to sense any approaching danger without having to hover like a mother hen.

The danger this time was a small party of Venatori scouts. One of them got lucky enough to loose an arrow before Vlast could put up a barrier; it had punched through the leather of his bracer and into his forearm. A flesh wound that would likely heal fine on its own, given time, but just as easily could become a real problem were it to sour.

In the aftermath, Kieran's generous offer is met with a low, gurgling hiss - the kind of sound that, were it a few octaves lower, might precede an angry gout of fire. As it stands like this, Vlast can just bear his teeth and menace.

"It's fine," he growls out the most words he's spoken consecutively the entire trip; "I can mend it myself."