Since it was rare enough to see Snow choose to greet one of the newcomers, Kash didn't interrupt. Even though the girl was bruised and battered and hobbling around on some kind of half-cast and a pair of crutches that always looked like torture devices to him. She needed healing, but by the looks of things most of the healing she needed would be too late in coming anyway and a half an hour or however long it took Snow to do whatever Snow felt needed to be done wouldn't hurt anything.

So Kash kept an eye on the girls -- almost mirror images in the anger vibrating under their skins -- and let the little mare he had at the end of a lead line keep on with her grazing. She'd been spooked since the undead invasion, and even though he'd healed her, she'd been off her feed. He and Snow'd discovered she'd eat all right if there was a human there she trusted, so he was taking a break from the clinic and waiting on Z to wait on Snow, the new girl, and this pretty lady instead.

Eventually the girl was hobbling around on her own again. Kash put himself near her path but not on it. And called out, "Snow tell you to come find a healer?" At just under six feet, he wasn't a big man, but a girl who wore her scars like badges of honor, would read war and battle in his mismatched eyes and in his stance. The first forty-some of a hundred slash scars up one arm would draw the eyes.