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Sure, sounds okay by me.
Word Count: 365. Worth 2 points.
The voice caught her off-guard for a moment and Hanna narrowly missed nicking her skin. She looked up into the most beautiful violet eyes she'd ever seen. The boy before her was unfamiliar, but that was no surprise to her. Hanna placed the knife on the table beside her and slid off the hospital bed to stand on the floor, smiling slightly at the boy's tone. In her opinion, he seemed quite good at the whole confrontation thing, despite having just met him. "My name is Hanna. Mew invited me within the pack lands; she is my niece. I live in AniWaya now, down south of here, but I used to be the Herbalist in Dahlia de Mai."
Hanna raised her arm to look at the small patch she'd shaved away. She could clearly see the blue line of her veins there; this was a good thing, as it might make sticking a needle into one easier. She wouldn't really know until she did it, but it was definitely promising. Her attention turned back to the young man. "So are you interested in the art of healing? Or are you here for a different reason?" For he was likely here for something other than tracking an old woman down. She did not ask his name, he would provide that if he was willing, but she was interested in whether or not she might have a pupil in the making. As far as she knew, Dahlia still had no healer, and it was her fault and so her responsibility - in her opinion - to fill that spot if it did not fill itself.
Another part of her was almost afraid to try to find a pupil. Svara had not been the greatest choice. Though she had the love of learning and of healing, her sense of tact was next to nil, and it had ended up a bust with Svara's dismissal from the pack. But perhaps she had gone on to heal elsewhere. For Hanna, healing was her calling, was what she was drawn to do whether she was the affirmed medic or not. And that was the best way to be, in her opinion.
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