Physical Interrupt

Xanadu Weyr – Infirmary

The infirmary here is intended for human care. It is spotless and smells of disinfectant, cots are lined up against one wall, a curtain can be pulled to give some privacy to the occupants of the cots if they so desire. A cabinet stands off against another wall, instruments and medications stored against when they will be needed. A couple of curtained off beds are used for examinations of patients and the treatment of minor injuries which won't require long term care. A desk with chair is just off of the doorway for the healer to sit and catch up on record keeping after a long days work.

The headwoman's duties take her to the infirmary daily. There are the housekeepers to check on - did they clean the sick rooms correctly? There's the meal deliveries - are the tea and toast, the bland soup and crackers the healers seem to think all their patients should eat getting there hot and unspilled from the kitchens? There's the fresh, clean linens to deliver and the dirty ones to be taken away. Darsce is here now, but not for any of those reasons. It's midmorning - she's been in much earlier with the above listed duties done and now? Now she slips in, purposely timing her visit while the healers are off in their back room medcount/change of shift meeting. Ahh avoidance! It's a wonderful thing! The headwoman is not alone - she's with the Steward. And she's not empty-handed, she's armed with a napkin-covered plate and a mug of steaming hot klah. With these she heads for the curtained cot she knows contains her half-sister.

Ever since Marel's been within the infirmary, M'kal has been seen. As often as his duties allow him he is here though all too often is is when Marel is sleeping. Perched upon the head of Marel's cot is Kiraz, a bronze who looks to M'kal. This has been his 'spy' of sorts though right now the spy is fast asleep with his head tucked under one wing. So M'kal slips into the infirmary either shirking his duties or off duty it is hard to tell. A riding jacket is held loosely in hand as he moves the familiar path towards where Marel's cot is. However he appears to not be alone in his visitation in that Darsce is there ahead of him. Swallowing back a bit of disappointment that his attention won't be the only one focused upon the patient he works up a smile for the headwoman. "Headwoman Darsce." he murmurs as he approaches.

Jethaniel's duties only occasionally take him to the infirmary. Were he dutiful about having his injuries seen to, he might be here more often, but the Steward has found alternative means for treatment. He's still using a cane as he accompanies Darsce into the infirmary, but his pace is not as slow as it has been. That, or Darsce is being sufficiently graceful in reducing her pace to his that it minimizes the appearance of his limp. Either hypothesis is plausible, and both may have some element of truth. The cane might also make one hypothesize he is here to be seen. That hypothesis is false; he is here to see a patient. A patient who is, evidently, popular today, and as he notes M'kal's trajectory approaching, he gives the bluerider a nod of greeting.

Even when Marel isn't sleeping of her own volition or thanks to the doses that the healers continue to give her, the brownrider has taken to pretending to be unconscious just to be on the safe side, should anyone arrive that she doesn't wish to speak with (or should a healer be determined to make one too many enquiries of a day). She's got the blankets pulled up to her shoulders, as usual, but she can't hide herself entirely, and so she peeks out of those covers as the sound of footsteps reaches her, icy-green eyes focusing rather than staring blankly at the curtain that surrounds her bed. That she can focus is a good sign, but just how pale she is isn't, or perhaps simply speaks of the last dose of painkillers having worn off. She's been good about sharing her space with M'kal's little bronze, yet she's as determined not to wake him as she is to not be seen by any healer unless she chooses to be.

Darsce is all about freedom of choice! And avoidance must run in her family (they get it from their father, most likely). Every time she's been in here Marel has been either been asleep or 'asleep'. She's hoping to catch her awake. The headwoman indeed is walking with a less than brisk pace, saying an occasional easy comment to the man by her side, so M'kal might just reach that curtain ahead of her. She's surprised to see the bluerider but manages to cover that with a hesitant smile and a flick of iceblue eyes to the curtained bed. He's…heading to the same cot? But oh, weren't they Weyrlings together? She has no idea why else he'd be here - she's been far too out of touch with… everyone, sadly. And so, she greets her sister's wingmate with a casual, "Hi. Could you… get the curtain for me please?" Because her hands are full.

M'kal's green gaze flickers from Jethaniel to Darsce then to the plate in her hands. A tentative smile appears as he reaches for the curtain. "I don't know if she's awake…" he starts off with. Since his own spy is sleeping! Attention quickly shifts towards the cot in question as he tugs the curtain open wide enough for the whole cot to be exposed. He offers no explanation as to why he is here but the look of concern towards Marel is easy enough to read.

Not only that, M'kal was - prior to becoming a weyrling, and to a certain extent thereafter - a healer. As such, the infirmary may be postulated to be an appropriate place to find him. Jethaniel nods again to M'kal's comment. "There is a certain tendency toward somnolence under such conditions." Assisted by the administration of certain medicines. "It is, I am assured, conducive to healing." There's a faint quirk of his lips for that, and then his eyes lift to look past the opened curtain to see Marel's cot - and, in fact, Marel, if the shape beneath the blankets is presumed to be so. It seems a reasonable presumption, and Jethaniel regards what is visible of the brownrider for a moment before his gaze returns to Darsce.

Voices. There are voices. Not one, but a lot of voices. Three isn't really so many, but for Marel, who has been trying to keep as low a profile as possible, three is a considerable number, even if she can easily recognise two of them within seconds. She hunkers down all the more beneath her blankets, not to pretend to be asleep, but to try and hide her clenched jaw, which, paired with her complexion, is what gives away her pain the most obviously. Her gaze darts to the end of her bed, seeking out either who has drawn it back or expecting a reason for doing so to be presented within moments. First, she finds M'kal, then Darsce, then Jethaniel… and in her vulnerable state, it must seem enough like an ambush for her to panic (given why she's in the infirmary in the first place). "…Why are you all…?" she begins to ask. Here, presumably.

"Thanks!" says Darsce easily enough to M'kal for opening that curtain for them all. Her gaze slides to her sister but not before noting the tender look bestowed upon her by the bluerider. Aww? She'll ask later, but from the muted smile forming, she approves! She's slipping around the foot of that cot to the other side, leaving M'kal the spot by Marel's head on the other, a smirk directed towards Jethaniel at his sleep comment. What causes that amusement is left unsaid but her, "Among other things," might cover it. She is beside Marel, sinking into one of the chairs there when her sister quavers her question and the headwoman has an answer ready (When does she not?) "To bring you some real food," she answers smoothly with an eyeroll for the fare served in here. She's been unable to change the menu, don't think she hasn't tried! Though she does note the pale complexion and hms. "Though maybe now is not a good time for a visit?"

A frown sketches across his features briefly as it changes to worry and concern. M'kal shakes his head after a moment, evidently coming to a decision in his head as he tugs over a chair close to the cot. He reaches for a hand from Marel, squeezing it lightly if she lets him take it. "To visit." he murmurs. "We're friends and family…do not turn us away luv." a hint of a smile brightens those dark green eyes as he casts a quick look towards Darsce. "And clearly your sister needs to know you are eating properly."

Under certain circumstances, situations which are not ordinarily problematic may become so. Most situations which involve a necessary presence in the infirmary qualify as such. Jethaniel glances to Darsce with a tilt of his head for her reply to him, a mild question in his look before he turns his head back toward Marel as she speaks. He frowns slightly as he notes the expression on what remains visible of her face and the tone of her voice. Jethaniel brings his cane around to in front of him, leaning on it without approaching closer. Perhaps he's just guarding the exit while the other two conduct a flanking maneuver? Or perhaps his lack of approach is intended to avoid conducting an action that will require reversal, because his next words are a calm, "I can depart." If Marel finds the visit excessive, Jethaniel is the person with the least reason to linger. He does not require an in-depth assessment of her status, if so doing would be to the detriment of her psychological status. Her dietary and social requirements… can be handled sufficiently by those who've already approached her bedside.

Pain wears away at the barrier between mouth and mind, which is perhaps why Marel is heard to utter, "…Aren't you all family?" in a faintly confused, uncertain way, her question (most likely directed at herself) dismissed with a shake of her head not a moment later. "The healers didn't send you?" Any of them or all of them; she's evidently fearful of spies. Hands scrabble against undersheets as Marel tries to sit up a little, having learnt not to use her feet to move herself about, though the move is made not without pain, conveyed only by the momentary closing of her eyes. However, she does show an interest in the prospect of food, admitting, "…I don't remember when I last ate." Not that it means she hasn't, just that she was probably too dosed to remember.

Haa! Properly! Darsce is, most times, a terrible influence. She's been trying to turn that around somewhat. "Yes indeed," her drawl agrees with M'kal. With a wink fluttered Marel-wards while lifting the cloth-covered plate from her lap to where her sister can reach to peek under the crisp white linen napkin if she so desires. "You haven't been getting your daily requirement of sugar, butter, eggs and nuts." There's flour in that dry toast they've been getting, so. She is aware of that blank look from Jethaniel, but a brief head shake dismisses her flippant comment; she'll demonstrate alternative techniques for healing later. Her lips part to protest his offer to leave, but really that'd be up to Marel, so she closes them again and returns her attention to the young woman, scrabbling to sit up in that cot. Her hands are full of plate and klah mug so it's to M'kal she looks to help her sister. She starts to answer about the healers, but is sidetracked by Marel's mutter. All family? Ahh! With another longer peek at M'kal her smile grows.

"Of course luv." agrees M'kal with a murmur as he does indeed move to aid Marel into a more sitting position. Evidently he gives her little choice in the matter as well as he is helping no matter what. A brief look is spared back towards the steward though mostly his focus is on Marel alone. Not that he's ignoring him just that he figures Marel will assure him that he can stay. "Then that lack of memory means you certainly need to eat." he says with some cheer to his tone. "After all if you have a meal that you can't remember then that doesn't actually count as eating." says the teen who is always hungry. "I certainly hope though that you teach me to cook once i've moved into your cottage." he adds. "It will be of course to prevent the accidental burning of the house…" is noted.

Jethaniel is quite aware, at a personal level, of what pain can do to one's control over what is said. As such, he does not attempt to answer Marel's muttered question, though the slight lowering of his head does not fully conceal the smile he has for it. However, even given that lack of verbal control, Marel does not accept his offer of departure, and so Jethaniel begins to move around her bed to join Darsce. If Marel wishes him to depart, she will so inform him. Otherwise… "No," he answers her question. "I would, personally, prefer to avoid the healers." Despite, or perhaps because, of the fact that he is still leaning on that cane. He glances across at M'kal, watching the younger man for a moment, then reaches to brush his fingers lightly to Darsce's shoulder as his gaze returns to Marel as the others encourage her to eat food of… proper… nutritional value.

If actively wanting food is a sign of recovery, then how Marel slips away one of the pastries beneath the napkin and unceremoniously stuffs it into her mouth as if she hasn't eaten for days is hopefully it's a good sign, if a not a terribly elegant one. Her lapse in manners is not one that reaches to speaking and eating at the same time, so she has to settle for giving her sister a grateful look and a faint smile in place of thanks, for now. Of course, she's trying to sit up properly at the same time and the desire to eat the pastry before any healers appear and take it away from her means she does submit to M'kal's help with more ease than she usually might. "Thank you," she says first, to Darsce, when she can speak without a greater breach of manners. She makes to catch at M'kal's hands with one of her own, more silent thanks given him, even as she remarks, "Maybe I'll let you burn it down if you traipse mud in everywhere," with a not unkind wryness to her voice. Glancing down into her lap, she sobers, then absently starts tracking stray flakes of pastry with the tips of her fingers as she sneaks a look up at Jethaniel and murmurs, "…Mama said something about an electric lock?" She'll make the assumption that he knows why she's in the infirmary, even if it's the wrong assumption. M'kal knows. And if Darsce doesn't, maybe she's about to.

It's just as well that Darsce's hands are too full to help Marel sit up. She's used her mother's method for hauling her drunk father upright and the results were not pretty. Hushed, because there are people sleeping in other cots and she doesn't want to attract any attention from the healers, "Ooh!" The quietly-excited squeal is from Darsce upon the heels of M'kal's comment. "Congratulations you two! You weren't planning on keeping that a secret, we're you Sis? You probably were. Oh well?" Her smile is sunnily pleased. Someone is already thinking of how to throw her little sister a weyrmating party (what else to call it?) "They're in a meeting," she echoes Jethaniel's assurance in regards to the healers, then leans closer to Marel and whispers with a frown of genuine concern, "Watch out for Mindhealer Cyrus. He's a nutcase!" Totally serious with that warning, despite her word usage before her expression eases back to a quieter smile as her sister digs into one of the pastries, "You're welcome. They're fresh. I… didn't make them." Feeling the brush of fingers to her shoulder, she turns a loving smile to Jethaniel while nimble fingers turn that klah handle towards Marel. It's a hint, but there's no compelling her to take it; she'll happily continue being her sister's coffee table. Her iceblue eyes flick to Jethaniel, back to her sister, "Lock?"

M'kal seems pleased at seeing Marel eating so heartily as well as her act of catching one of his hands within hers. A bright smile lights up his eyes though at the excited yet quiet squeal from Darsce he can't help but wince a bit. A..weyrmating party? He offers no objections to it though his expression probably reads as one who wants to see something like that kept small. "I've heard things about Cyrus." he admits in a hushed murmur of words. "Gets inside your mind. Don't let 'em talk to you!" he says sternly, showing his protective side. Both brows rise up curiously though as he repeats Darsce's question of. "…lock?"

Jethaniel settles himself carefully into a seated position. By making the motion slow, he can minimize the appearance of awkwardness and discomfort. Standing up is still harder than sitting down, but he will encounter that part of the procedure later. For now, he is seated, and leans the cane against the side of the chair. Jethaniel looks to Darsce for her excitement regarding the change of habitation for M'kal. "Ah." The comment is soft as he notes that the action would, in fact, mark a significant change of state, and he smiles before glancing across the cot to regard the one intending to undergo this change in state. He does not, however, comment any more than giving M'kal a nod of acknowledgment. Family is a partially transitive graph, and the diagram may require updating. It is, at least, a status marker which makes infirmary visits more defensible, not that he would ordinarily think they need defense, but… ah, Cyrus. Jethaniel frowns slightly. "If there are issues…" A pause, with that frown lingering, and then he concludes blandly, "I would like to hear about them." And will act as he finds appropriate after suitable consideration, but he would certainly like to hear them. He looks back to Marel as she addresses him, and while the others question, he simply inclines his head in a nod. "She did." He brings his hands together in front of him. "It is possible, either in a locked room scenario or as a… less injurious form of physical interrupt."

Marel has to reach twice for that mug of klah, gesture aborted halfway when she realises just how badly her hands are shaking. It's not all that obvious, though it's enough for her to pause and stare down at her hands to try and force them into steadiness, and she must be at least partly successful, since she accepts the mug with a murmur of thanks and lifts the klah to her lips. The words 'healer', 'Cyrus' and 'mind' more than once in a matter of seconds are enough to bring back that worried edge to her expression, a wide-eyed stare darted between all three of her visitors. "You can't… He's not… He's not going to see me?" Please say no. Please. The thought is enough to distract her from Darsce's reaction to the news of M'kal moving in, and it's absently that she murmurs, "Mur'dah knows… I don't remember if I've said anything to anyone else…" Now, she's too busy looking around for Cyrus. Just in-case. As for talk of a lock, she stares down into her lap again and makes herself say, "…In-case Isyriath goes after Seryth again," in the quietest of voices. But what Jethaniel suggests makes her frown, or her understanding (lack of?) of it does. "You can make something that will shock me?" Seems more efficient. Certainly, she doesn't appear averse to that, if that's what he means.

Given that Darsce hasn't mentioned her impulsive thought out loud, she has no idea what M'kal's wince is for and thus, her smile wanes a touch. Okaaay, that was a little weird. And so she doesn't bubble further enthusiasm. She does, however, nod emphatic agreement, backing M'kal on his warning about Cyrus. The mug taken, Darsce's hand is now free to seek Jethaniel's, though she still holds the plate - there are yet more pastries upon it - with her other. She turns a blank look back to Jethaniel, echoing, "Physical…interrupt? Whut?" Oh and then Marel makes it clearer by mentioning her gold-chasing lifemate along with that little word 'again.' Her eyes return to Marel, sweeping down the length of the cot only to return in a stare at her younger sibling. "What did you do?" So, no, she's clueless about just why Marel is a patient in here, which speaks volumes for the steward's confidentiality on things entrusted to him. And on the next breath, as she hears Marel's request for her very own personal defibrillator, "Shit! Marel, you can't be serious?!" All hissed under her breath so her voice won't carry.

Maybe M'kal's wince was the first sign of his duties calling, as his dragon informed him he was needed elsewhere. This leaves Marel with only two visitors, and - thus far - no healers intruding. "You do not need to speak with him," is Jethaniel's considered opinion regarding Marel and Cyrus. He is, evidently, of this opinion even while being aware of why she's here. Darsce's hand finds his, and he twines his fingers with hers gently as his other hand lowers to rest against his lap. He does not, however, look at her for either of her questions. In theory, this may be because they are directed at Marel, not himself. His own gaze also remains on Marel. "I can," Jethaniel says. His tone is quite calm - deliberately so - and seems entirely serious as he explains. "It has the advantage that it does not require you to be in proximity to your cottage; if the situation arises unexpectedly… it would still be effective." He glances down for a moment, then lifts his gaze to Marel once more. His tone has a certain wryness as he continues, "The primary disadvantage is that it would be painful." That is, in fact, the point. Pain has been shown to be capable of ceasing Isyriath's pursuit; Marel has shown herself capable of inflicting it on herself for that purpose. "However, the long-term impact would not be significantly worse than a localized sunburn." Assuming it works as designed. If it doesn't… well, there are a wide range of potential consequences for devices dealing with electrical potentials.

Biting down on the inside of her lip, Marel shrinks back from her sister's demand, almost sloshing the klah all over sheets and blankets. Having tried to defend herself so often by now, her, "I stopped him!" is less protest or informative statement than it is a despairing wail. "I had to. There wasn't another way and don't tell me that there was, because I couldn't stop him." And, from how she can't quite look at Darsce or Jethaniel, it's a failure that she's more than a little ashamed of. She swallows a few times, then lifts the mug to her lips to try and compose herself enough to get past pain and hurt not of the physical variety and back to a more reasonable, logical state of mind. "I don't mind if it hurts," she tells Jethaniel. Indeed not, as, yes, she has already demonstrated that. "As long as it stops me - and him - I don't mind." With that, her gaze swings back to Darsce, though hesitantly. "I am serious," the brownrider says softly. "I have to be. I can't do this again, even if it's only once every few turns. I can't be scared out of my wits," literally, "every time she rises."

Darsce splutters. "No!" That's also, amazingly, a whispered hiss as she directs a glare, yes, a glare at Jethaniel for his so-calm offer. "Why are you encouraging her??" The glare gets directed to her sister now. Stopped him? She disengages her hand from Jethaniel's to reach and flick the covers back enough to see the dressing on Marel's leg. She can guess how the scenario went, so doesn't ask how she managed that. "Yeah, I get it and I don't blame you for not wanting him to catch her. But has it occurred to you that you're going to, at some point stop wanting to push that self-shock button? And then where will you be but making your way to wherever your mother is?" Her stormy gaze is swung back to Jethaniel, "Or are you going to make it keep shocking her until the flight is over?" Back to Marel, "And what's this going to do to your relationship with Isyriath if you keep stopping him? Stop yourself, but-" But. BUT! "Don't do this. Shit, carry metallic tape everywhere with you and tape yourself to something. It worked for me."

Jethaniel brings his hand, released from Darsce's grasp, together with the other one, and lowers his gaze to regard them both. "Because," he says, and his voice is quiet, "It is her choice." He remains where he is, hands folding against each other on his lap, and says nothing to Marel's protests or Darsce's rejoinders to them. "It is a delaying tactic. Nothing more." And a form of negative reinforcement for that particular type of chase - but if the dragon is delayed, he will be incapable of catching. If he does not catch, the consequences are minimized. Jethaniel has no answer for what it will do to Marel and Isyriath's relationship, and does not attempt to present one. He does, however, nod to Marel's willingness to accept pain in the pursuit of her goals, before lowering his head further at Darsce's comment about the tape. "The situations are not entirely the same."

Marel looks close to tears as she fumbles to grab her blankets back and draw them as high as she can once again, mug of klah hastily abandoned on the small bedside table to her right. It's not for the small matter of Darsce seeing what she did, but that her sister goes and voices everything that she's been so terrified of right for her to hear that makes her start to curl in on herself, tears slipping free despite her best efforts. That she's being reduced to such a state in-front of Jethaniel just makes it all the worse, and when she tries to draw her knees to her chest, that injured leg protests and leaves her slumped against pillows and staring up at the ceiling. "You don't understand," she eventually replies, tremor in her voice. "I need to be stopped. It's my decision. I'm more than capable of doing this again."

Darsce gives Jethaniel a look of outright disbelief and grits out, "It isn't just her choice! It's Isyriath's too. And it's cruel!" How are they not getting this? She, who doesn't like what dragons do to people, is advocating for Isyriath, how ironic is that? She's rather stunned that someone so gentle can dispassionately discuss something so horrific as causing pain both physical (to the rider) and emotional (to the dragon). "I know," she snaps irritably to Jethaniel, "I don't have a dragon to alienate!" She turns to glare at her sister once more, steeling herself not to weaken at the sight of those tears. No. She's not going to baby her, as tempting as it is. Striving - and managing for the most part - to keep her voice calm and lowered, "You're wrong. I do understand. But you're so neck-deep in it that you're not thinking through this clearly, Marel. There have to be other options." There must be! "I never thought you'd put your own needs before your dragon's. This… this will destroy what you have with him. Why don't you know-" Oh. The thought stops her mid-sentence and her angry fear drains away. Even more quietly, "This is my fault."

Jethaniel regards his hands for Darsce's disbelief, then lifts his head to look at her for that last addition. "I am aware." The words are soft ones, and betray a hint of the guilt he'd feel. There is a reason that he would not test such a device on any exterior subject - but he is also aware of that capability of Marel's to inflict that cruelty in less controlled manners. It is, in brief, why Jethaniel is willing to entertain this solution - as a form of harm mitigation, because the alternative wherein she attempts to repeat this procedure and encounters a significantly larger blood vessel is… a far more drastic solution to the problem, and one which presents a wide variety of other problems. The snapped words from Darsce lower his head again, and he's quiet for a time, frowning at his lap while they speak of decisions, and dragons, and needs… and blame. That's when he looks up, but not to Darsce. To Marel, briefly, then across the bed to the empty space where M'kal was. "There is an alternative formulation." He's speaking in that bloodless, carefully emotionless tone once again. "It could have a time delay, and emit a radio signal," he informs that space. "An… emergency beacon, with a code to turn it off." Prior to the electrical shock. "You would not have the code. Someone you trust would." He's looking at that empty space, and proposing a solution that involves more than just Marel. "They could enter it, if they were present to restrain you."

Emergency beacon. Restrain her. Blame. Hurt. Alienating. That Marel has started to run out of words is a fair indication that she's almost at her limits; that she's had just about as much as she can bear. Though she may be deemed an adult, have been a rider for a good two turns, and run her own business, underneath it all, she's still just a sixteen turn old girl. And, right now? It shows. "Just… just…" For a second or two, it looks like Marel might regain control of herself or argue or shout, but all she comes out with is a miserable, defeated, "Leave me alone…!" that turns out to be the prelude to sobs that have her not lashing out, but retreating away from present company and to somewhere in her mind that doesn't let her humiliate (in her opinion) herself further. She turns away from Darsce and Jethaniel both, sinking down beneath the covers.

With a glitter of unshed tears in her own eyes, Darsce speaks to that blanket-clad shape in the cot, not allowing the retreat just quite yet. "Because I taught that damn flights lesson and you don't know. Because I didn't teach this in the lesson." Because she, as a non-rider, never thought of a scenario where a rider would so fight their lifemate that they'd risk the dragonbond to stop it. Her tone is one of self-directed bitterness. "And you don't believe me because I've no credibility." She draws a pained breath, and says words she's never ever actually been vulnerable enough to voice, "I love you Marel. Seeing you this way…" Her throat closes and her voice fails. She falls silent to turn as Jethaniel speaks but her horror grows with each monotone word. She tries to say something, but no sound emerges. White-faced, she rises slowly without taking her eyes off of him and backs away, then turns and runs from the room. Somewhere along the way those poor pastries fall off the plate she's forgotten she's still holding.

Jethaniel is no rider. He's not even weyrbred. He's been given a problem to solve, and - evidently - his attempts to solve it have proven to be both a failure and deeply flawed for other reasons. Jethaniel lowers his head again, for Darsce's reaction and Marel's demand. "Very well," he says quietly, and his eyes flick to the side as he reaches for his cane. "I will not discuss this again until after your release from the infirmary." At least not with Marel. He may be hearing all about it from Darsce - if she's even willing to talk to him. After her response to his suggestion, it seems… not entirely likely. The cane is placed in front of him, and with its help, Jethaniel pushes himself to his feet. His eyes lift to regard Marel for a moment, and then he lowers his head. "I am sorry," he tells her, then turns and limps away out of the infirmary, pausing to awkwardly draw her curtain shut along the way.

Continued in: I Scare Myself

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