FEARFUL OF THE END && mass herb gathering.

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Ren didn't know jack shit about medicine. He was brought up to always be battle-ready, to kill or be killed and if you were wounded in battle then... You'd either live or die with your wounds. It was punishment for being so weak and unprepared for the worst. Many individuals lost their lives because others said they lacked "strength" and "will-power" to overcome injuries with little to no medical aid. At the time, Ren also thought that was the case and looked down on those individuals. He's survived many battles that could have ended his life and it shows with the abundance of scars littered on his body. He believed he had the "strength" and "will-power" to persevere with the little medicine knowledge his tribe possessed. It took him too long to realized him being alive and staying alive through such turmoil was sheer luck. Nothing more, nothing less. As much as he wanted to believe one could continue living on even with injuries without medical attention, it was too illogical to hold any real merit. It was important and a necessity to continue to live a long life, hence why he was there.

Blinking slowly, joined the others with a curious flick of his ear. Looking down at the herbs laid out, he noticed some smelled better than others. Some also had a stronger fragrance in comparison to a few who had a more muted aroma. How do the medics know which is which? Doesn't it fry their noses after a while? Questions, questions. Remaining quiet, he shifted his dark gaze from the many herbs to Delilah, followed by a nod of his head in a silent 'I'll help as well.'