Reuma's skin bristled slightly with the way that Raeh said her species' name. Are all elves this... Creepy? Or did I just get the overly comfortable one? Reuma's ears flicked once more as she was called an animal, and a few sparks of pained sadness sputter from the empathetic horns atop her head, but the interruption of Zee gave a much appreciated, and much needed, point of relief. "O-oh! Thank you, Ma'am. Y-you are too kind, real-" The timid healer stops dead in her appreciative acceptance of the menu, one hand halfway to taking the offered menu. Now, just to add another level of strangeness to the frazzled pronghorn's thoughts, the barmaid had one of the strangest weaves yet. On the surface, it seemed like a normal, if nonmagical weave, a bit blurry and hard to make out, but not unheard of. But closer, more detailed feeling revealed that it swayed and warped in the subtlest ways, and for a moment Reuma felt her stomach do a flip, the feeling not unlike vertigo.

After a few moments of pause, Reuma manages to pull away from the feeling of that weave, and the healer snatches the menu ever too slightly too fast while giving a halfhearted and embarrassed chuckle. "REALLY. Really too kind. Ahaheh h-heh..." The healer's eyes turn to the ocean of options on the menu, and seek out anything that might be familiar. Finally, halfway down a column, she spots a few words that seem to be at least somewhat related to her own native tongue. "Oh! A bowl of Merimiespata, the sailor's stew! That would be lovely~" Reuma seemed to calm somewhat speaking the word, as if remembering things of comfort, and for a few moments she squeezes the leatherbound tome close. I wonder if it will be anything like the recipe I have written down?

Then Raeh reminded Reuma of the pronghorn's uncomfortable position. "N-no, honest! I've only ever seen the warrior wolves, the gentle rabbitkin, and humans.... Though I hear that the witches and the foxes of death also were in the lands, b-but most of those lands were beyond the safe reach of people... Are elves from the flesh forest? Or maybe the ravaged wastes? I only ever saw the burning sands and the frozen lands..." Reuma's eyes scanned the elf a little closer, than came the question of weapons. Why weapons? I'm a healer? Is this land as unkind as for even the medics to bring tools of death? The pronghorn pauses for a moment, blinking behind the mask, and debating how to answer. "I-i suppose I have used an axe, a spear, and a bow for hunting and fishing, but never upon another... I-i don't know that it would be right for me to consider them weapons... But as I remember, most were made from flint, wood, and bone, and when needed both weapon and flesh were enhanced with wyrdrune and weaving magics... Are elves crafters too? Or do you personally craft weapons?" The timid healer tries to grasp for a way that Raeh might be peaceful, but a sinking feeling in her gut seems to point towards more sinister intent.