Tyr overheard the fact that the armor was, in fact, her mothers. His eyes widened slightly at that. He stood his ground as she took the dagger and cut herself. He didn't like some of their customs, but again, they've helped them survive this long. He watched in amazement, though his face wouldn't show it, as the blood on the armor became as part of the metal. He nodded to no one as he stepped forward and took Natalya's hand. He looked her in her eyes and lifted her hand and licked her bleeding palm, cleaning the wound. Showing compassion and care, he slowly closed her fingers over the wound and smiled slightly.
He let her hand where it was as he turned around and looked at his suit of armor. A marvel, this time he couldn't hold his amazement, "Marthix, this is... impressive, to say the least." He smiled brightly to the large, gentle, beast whose goliath hands made such delicate, yet strong works of art.
He looked over the markings and tilted his head back to Natalya and asked, "What do these characters mean?"