After Elsa had gone into her old bedroom, Roran turned her attention back to the heating pot. She stared into the liquid, not really looking for anything in particular other than a blank place to stare. She found she was better able to gather her thoughts if she focused on one thing.
As much as she wanted to think about the friendship that might be budding between her and the mage, she did her best to leave those thoughts aside, instead thinking of the battle that was yet to come. The Wardens suspected the village had been attacked by a scouting party for a much larger army. If that were true, they could expect a bigger, more intense battle in just a few days time. That would be both she and her step-father, Tristan, would be in the fray. She didn't doubt Tristan's ability to take care of himself in battle, but she still found herself worrying about the battle. What if something were to happen to them both? What would come of Brynn? He was nearly 15 and could take care of himself more or less, but Roran didn't want to leave him alone in the world.
Having gotten lost in her thoughts, the water had started to boil and Roran was jarred from her reverie by the tiny bubbles reaching the surface. Cursing to herself lightly, she grabbed the cloth Brynn had used to remove the pot from the fire and did the same as he. Being careful to carry it away from her body, she went to the closed door and knocked lightly with her free hand. She paused a moment before slowly pushing it open and peeking in.
Elsa was already seated in the basin and so Roran let herself in further, setting the pot on the floor next to the basin. "The water started boiling on accident so it's got to cool a bit before I can pour it in," she explained with a sheepish grin, rubbing her hands together lightly. Moving her eyes to the chair she'd set her belongings on, Roran motioned to them, raising a brow a bit questioningly. "I'll go wash these out here in a bit, yes?" she said, intending to take them after she'd poured the last pot of water in,