"For the love of the Maker, would you hold still?"

Grumbling under her breath as Agarwaenor persisted in attempting to wriggle away from her, Anika about snapped. He was grumbling as well, something about 'stupid shem' slipping out. She snagged his wrist before he could escape completely. The look in her eyes dark and challenging.

"Do it again. I dare you. See if I don't let that wound fester until it's oozing bloodied puss and you can't hold your bow or nock an arrow."

Agarwaenor rolled his eyes, a heavy and annoyed sigh pushing roughly past his lips.

"You're a shem," he insisted. "There's no way you know what you're doing. I can't possibly trust -"

"Say it again. Call me a shem again and see if I don't herald your ass all the way back to Andraste and the fucking Maker himself."

"Elgar'nan," he hissed through gritted teeth.

She twisted his wrist, dragging him back and using her other hand to push him back onto the chair. Anika provided him a steely glare as she released his wrist. He glared right back at her, rubbing at it as if she'd left bruises.

"You're lucky you're even getting help." She turned, picking up a clean bandage before she looked back at him. His blue gaze remained locked on her mercilessly. Anika huffed. "Many of the other healers are frightened of you." She watched as he puffed his chest out ever so slightly, clearly proud of the idea. With a roll of her eyes, she began to wrap his arm with the bandage. "Mostly because they fear what it means that a Dalish elf is the Herald of Andraste."

Agarwaenor sniffed, amused. "But not you?" He smirked up at her.

"I don't know what to make of you," she admitted, shrugging. "You're hot headed, brash, incredibly stubborn." She chuckled in the face of his scowl. "Makes you more…" she trailed off, searching for the word. "Real," she decided.

"So… I'm real to you, but not to them?" he pondered aloud.

Anika hummed. "Something like that." She tied off the wrap and tucked the ends in. "There. Now don't fuss with it. And I expect you to rest and allow the wound to mend."

"I thought you were a mage?" He squinted at her, a puzzled crease in his brow.

"What does that have to do with anything?" She arched a brow at him, folding her arms across her chest.

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "I suppose it's only elven mages that can use their magic to mend wounds."

Anika tipped her chin up, huffing out a breath through her nostrils. "I am no less a mage because I did not close your wound with magic. Magic does not solve nor heal all injuries, Inquisitor." She narrowed her gaze. "And notbecause I am only half elven."

Agarwaenor scoffed as he stood, shaking his head as he looked her over. He waved his good arm in her general direction, indicating first her ears and then the rest of her. He made a vague, incoherent noise.

She cocked her head to the side, a look of confusion if not for the wicked smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Use your words, Agarwaenor."

The scowl he offered sent her into a fit of laughs. He hissed again, swearing in elvhen under his breath. She gave a wicked tut under her breath, turning to gather her supplies and store them away.

"There is no way you are an elf!" he finally exclaimed, exasperated. "Just… just look at you!" He waved his good arm in her general direction again.

Anika turned, setting one hand on her hip as she stared at the short bundle of elf-rage.

"Since we lack a mirror, I expect you will need to describe the problems to me."

He blanched, fumbling around for words to do just that. Rather than any form of sensible words, he made a few incoherent noises. Once again, he gestured to the whole of her body. A few more sounds slipped out, all words that went unrecognized.

Anika rolled her eyes. Her supplies stored away, she turned around and stepped forward. "When you figure it out, you know where to find me." She flashed him a grin. "And in the mean time, remember what I told you. Rest. Take it easy, maybe help Lady Montilyet sort out some of that paperwork she has stacked up."

As Anika continued on, leaving Agarwaenor standing awkwardly in place, he turned to watch her leave. He sneered, mocking her and rolling his eyes. A few odd stares from a couple patients and another healer, however, sent him scurrying back up to the main keep.