Liriasol shrugged a little; he wasn't being ungracious, just indicating that he felt it was his job. "Merishel? I've done what I can to keep her stable." he said. "I learned what I know in situations like this, far from anywhere civilised. She should be all right, though she must see the Healers when we get back and she should not be involved in any more fighting until she has recovered." The Ranger finished cleaning the punctures and began to dress them. Best to keep the dust and dirt out, and who knew what else so close to a settlement. "Since they were gifted to you, it seems only fitting that you should pass them on now that you're done with them," he indicated the spears, "though I recall that our ancestors would offer weapons of the enemy taken in battle to Khaine. You captured them, in your own fashion." He placed the first dressing. "You speak their language. They ... have a culture, the Kroot, and I can't work out if it is simple or extremely complicated." It was partly to keep his patient distracted, and partly due to the curiosity years of being a Ranger still hadn't worn out of him. "I could make out the odd word, that's about all, but I haven't, ah, worked alongside them as much as you. Can they be trusted?" Liriasol was undecided. And if Cair knew more of the Kroot ways, he would be the best one to help him make that decision.