Well, if she isn't going to camp out...

Cameron glances around. At the visibly aged townsfolk in particular.

"I can easily heal an elderly person of the ravages of time to make them young and healthy again. Who's the richest old person you know of who might be interested in paying me for that on short notice?"

She hands the coinbars back to Tegan as another thought occurs to her.

"But, are there houses for sale, right now, in a town this small?"

"If you can do that without expensive reagents, it'd be worth a lot. You might end up wanting to go somewhere bigger."

"Houses, and rich people, are both probably gonna be on the east side of town, I don't go there much. I don't know whether there's a house up right now, but if you're thinking about long-term plans there'll be something eventually. —You can keep the money. Help you get started, right?"

A thought occurs to her. She lowers her voice. "I'd normally assume that you only heal the body, but given... all of the everything... I should mention – if you can heal souls, make people actually younger, so they get more years to live instead of just making their bodies youthful and healthy, then you'll need to have good self-defense magic because there are some very powerful people who would want to live forever. That's the kind of power that wars are fought to control."

"Thanks." Coinbars vanish into a seam in the air. "Will you show me the east side of town or do you want to introduce me to someone who goes there more often?"

"And... my healing does make people 'actually' younger, yes," and if it turns out there's anything to what sure sounds like fairly standard ageist superstition, she'll be ready to murder it when it shows up to kill her otherwise-healthy patients, "it's a full restoration and can be repeated indefinitely without side effects. And if people would start wars over this, that's all the more reason to sell it to those people, for exorbitant amounts of money, before I reveal that I can do it without limit and am willing to provide it for free to anyone who needs it."

Pause. 

"But if it comes down to it, yes, magical girls are built for combat. I could probably raze this town to kindling and I'm a defensive specialist."

"I can point you in the right direction, but if you want someone who knows their way around... if you ask at the inn, they'd probably know who would know? Or you could just wander around on your own, Costallow's not that big. I'd come with you, even, if you wanted."

"Well. I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I."

Hmm.

"Let's ask at the inn?"

"Sure." She leads the way.

During the walk, Cameron's attention drifts away for fifteen seconds.

And then she whispers, "Cleansing Aura!"

It... doesn't feel like anything, really. But there is a very subtle before vs. after. Pathogens, toxins, and anything else organic that might trouble a human body quietly bleeds out of existence particle by particle. The spell is very precise, able to slowly errode away even the waste still inside a human's body while not even touching necessary gut flora.

And it's not like she's using her mana for anything else right now, so Cameron wills all of her power into the spell, and the aura easily expands to cover the entire town.

Tegan was dirty and sweaty enough from hiking out to the crater and poking around that, together with the incantation to tip her off, she does manage to notice the change. "Did— I think that affected me, too. Did you mean for that to happen?"

Cameron nods.

"If I can keep this spell up while I'm not doing anything else, I might as well."

Tegan may notice that her sweat feels slightly less sticky, and any body odor she had is rapidly fading, leaving only its least-stale edge.

"Well. Thank you."

And presently: "That's it, over on the left." It's a larger building than the ones surrounding it, and somehow homier-looking. An old-fashioned hanging sign over the door reads Sunshine Inn.

"Alright."

Cameron follows Tegan inside.

The innkeeper is dressed in white and gray, and has her hair tied back in a ponytail. She smiles at them as they come in. (Her assessing (and appreciative) glance over Cameron's body is quick and subtle; it would be easy to miss it.) "New meat! Welcome to the Sunshine Inn, I'm Sunny, what can I do ya for?"

Cameron totally notices anyway.

"Hi, Sunny. I'm Cameron. I'm the most powerful healer you've ever met," this in the tones of flat fact, "and apparently this is the place to ask about who might be old and rich enough to pay me a lot of money to make them young and healthy again."

"Oooh. You wanna talk to Simon Potts, over on Pigrun and Farring, but you'll need an introduction – you should show Doc Lemon what you can do, he can get you in with anyone in this town. I gotta stay here and ride the counter, but Tegan can show you where he lives. Hey, do you need clothes? I got this gorgeous scarf—"

Tegan facepalms. "I really should have thought of that. Thanks, Sunny."

She's tempted to say something about the offer of clothes, but she's long since learned not to interfere when Sunny's doing her thing.

A scarf? Is she... hah, that was totally deliberate, wasn't it. Cameron likes this person.

"I do not currently have any clothes but I'll be able to fix that myself, soon. Thanks for the offer, though. How about I come back here if it turns out I can't buy a house today?"

"Sounds good! I'd love to have you. I think the old Pearson place is up for auction soon, you might be able to cut in early if you don't mind 'em gouging you a little. I'd hold out, though, and I promise I'm not just saying that 'cause I'm hoping to getcha into one'a my beds."

Nod.

"I'm glad to be had, and I'm sure your beds have many appealing qualities."

Smiling wryly, Cameron turns to Tegan. "Shall we go see this Doc Lemon?"

"Sure."

"See you round!"

Cameron waves as they depart.

"It's Doctor Clement to his face," she mentions, as they're approaching the office.

"Noted."

Cameron's cleansing aura has been covering the whole town for a while, now, and she keeps it active as they enter this Doctor's abode. Maybe he's noticed it, after this long.

She knocks.

And a middle-aged man opens the door, brown hair just beginning to gray, eyes keen behind round glasses. He's dressed in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves crisply rolled up to just below the elbow; a silver-gray bowtie; and a straight ankle-length wrap skirt in matching gray, buttoned on the side.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Fallahal," he says, nodding to Tegan. Turning to Cameron, "Alvin Clement, at your service. How may I help you?"