Arwen doesn’t mind the bracelets nor the muscles. She assumed he’s a hunter or a bounty hunter. Perhaps she should suggest to him that Wargs are quite the fiercesome creatures to fight. She kneels and places her hand in water. Her hand glows and she touches his face lightly whispering some elvish words. She smiles as she sees the scars on his face fade away. “Do you have any other wounds?” She asks softly.
Her hand looks so petite and unmarred compared to his cut-up face, but the contusions and incisions fade away when she gently caresses him and mutters those indiscernible words of her’s.
”Well,” he chuckles, “if that’s how y’re gon’ heal ‘em, then yeah, baby, I got some wounds ya can heal.” He hadn’t cared if she was offended with whether or not he was being vulgar, he’d be a damn liar if he didn’t think she was somethin’ else…
Especially in light of her recently revealed ‘talents.’ Victor’s general interest, intrigued.