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Having lost track already, the young chymist nodded, entirely serious. "I mean, y'need fuel an' a spark to complete the triangle- wait, that was a joke. Sorry, still kinda stupid yet." So as not to forget, he took another pull from the waterskin. After a moment, he offered that to her as well. No sense getting her dehydrated, and he needed to have some of the salt anyway.

So it was that he nearly spat the whole lick out when she came out and asked to learn. He didn't, having successfully held his salt, but that did set Aire to coughing for a few seconds together when it went down wrong. "I. I suppose? Hadn't really thought about teaching anyone when I'm still learning myself. I don't-" The (formerly) yellow earthling stopped himself, attempting to think before his mouth took the jumble and ran off. His master's grumbling came to mind, as it so often did: 'Prentices. More trouble than you're worth, the lot of ya. ...Suppose it's good for keeping the basics fresh, tho'. And you're worth nothin' as a chymist if you can't remember the basics. Remember that, boy."

A slow nod, mostly to himself. "...I'll likely be staying in town for some little while while I recover and adapt myself. Let's take this one step at a time, here. If you're still interested after goin' through the basics, an' the extensive safety measures I take, then we can discuss somethin' more official. I'd be movin' on before too long, an' I couldn't teach anybody if I'm off in the desert again." This time, the clean hand offered a shake. "Sound fair?"

The half-baked chymist wasn't in any state to be making with the coherent humor. On the contrary, Zasha's patient had thought she was making the joke! Which just proved the point further. The hand not shaking hers held up a slender finger. "Hold'jer quhar here a sec. Informed decisions are best decisions. Already made that mistake m'self, an' no 'prentice o' mine'll make it too. To. Yeah. We'll talk more about th' desert when you know what'cher gettin' into an' I'm not fresh outta the oven."

As honest as he was being, and as eager as she was to learn, he was just cognizant of his present mental difficulty to recall that this was effectively a child bargaining with a drunk person. He took a moment to scribble something down in Belrean script with a stick of charcoal. A reminder for if his memory of today went ploin-shaped. "Right. I'll remember now. Prob'ly." Of course, now Aire realized he'd been shaking the girl's hand the whole time and let go. "Right. First lesson's keep hydrated an' salted, like y'told me."

"Mean. Yeah? Yer workin' fer a healer in a desert, you'd know dehydration out here. ...Why am I explaining this to you, you told me this." That last stretch of sense had been about the last of his reserves. The sun had sapped away his strength, and though Aire was a tough one (or stubborn, if one didn't care to be kind), high Atun's attention could burn any will away.

He accepted the waterskin with a nod and unsteady hand. The contents mostly made it into his mouth when he took a pull. "Bed'd be nice. But I gotta stow the cart somewhere. It's. Wait, it ain't been movin' at all, has it?" And with that, Zasha's new teacher slumped to one side.

His host, a weathered merchant who came with a herd of quhar, returned in time to see this. He looked up to the local girl, shaking his head. "This is what happens when you do not buy the correct quahar from the first, my friends. Ah, well. He is a good customer, and I'll see him taken care of. Thank you for your time, Zasha, and be sure to tell your lovely mother that Crazy Hass'Al has a special bargain on a quahar, just for her!"