OOC :
Hirem winced as he left the tent, knowing that he was paying Dhanya a huge disrespect, but he had also managed to defuse the conflict that was brewing between Ari'Yahal, himself, and the shapeshifting woman. Although, to be fair, it was Raziel that had done this; he managed to touch the hearts of all involved, and would be key in any further interactions between his mother and Dhanya. Hirem didn't want to manipulate him, he merely wanted Raziel around when the two were in any close contact.
He pointed towards the center of the camp, at a reddish tent that was larger than the other ones and had a flow of workers going in and out, hauling crates or food into it. "There is the supply tent, where the caravan master likely is." He indicated for Raziel to hurry on ahead, peeking his head back inside the tent and giving a look at Dhanya that tried to convey his regrets at the situation. Perhaps it wouldn't do anything of consequence, but Hirem wanted her to know that he wasn't against her. He wanted answers, and wasn't liable to take any more magic completely in stride, but he certainly wasn't anger.
Anger was a curious thing for the Benshiran to feel nowadays, as his time alone had certainly dulled his emotions, including rage. But even when Hirem began his mad crusade against the Eypharians, he still treated everything in a casual manner, a spark of his potential fury shining through at occasional intervals. He was a large man, and he had managed to scrap his way through tense battles in a nonchalant manner. He feared what could happen if all his fury was unleashed, feared what monster he could become.
Hirem called the caravan master out from his tent, and there came a heavy huffing and puffing as a small little man with a crinkled face and scraggly white beard emerged from the tent's shadows, observing Hirem and his new friends with an inquisitive eye. Finally, there came a question that seemed to take an age to be formulated, slowly coming out in long, drawn out breaths. "Benshiran, who is this you bring with you?"
The large desert wanderer nodded, gesturing his hands to each person as he spoke. "This is Ari'Yahal, from the tents of Keshet, of the sons of Havid, and her son, Raziel. They are Benshirans as well, and I found them out in the desert this morning. They could use supplies, and would also appreciate a brief stay." He glanced at the Benshiran mother, wondering if he somehow presumed too much from her words with her son.
There was another drawn out pause, and the caravan master stepped closer, eyeing Ari'Yahal and her son with new vision. "What supplies do you require?"