so much of our lives is just carving through the dark
"I'm glad, because if you didn't you'd have to unhappily sit through a lot more of my examinations." Grinning, Isla at least spends a moment or so admiring the wildflowers in the vase, arranging them here and there before welcoming ever to the impromptu kitchen table clinic. "They're beautiful, thank you," she murmurs, kissing his cheek before opening her bag to get everything out.
The aviator is correct - Isla does want to draw blood and take his vitals, among a plethora of other things - and as she gets out all of her equipment and he talks, she listens with a furrowed brow. "It sounds as though if you are infected," which, let's be honest, is starting to seem very much like the case, "you're actually protected against many of the creatures that would attack anyone else."
Falling quiet for a moment to take Ever's temperature, to listen to his heart and to shine a light briefly in his eyes, Isla jots down her findings before speaking once more. "Do you know how it might have happened, if you did get infected?"
The aviator is correct - Isla does want to draw blood and take his vitals, among a plethora of other things - and as she gets out all of her equipment and he talks, she listens with a furrowed brow. "It sounds as though if you are infected," which, let's be honest, is starting to seem very much like the case, "you're actually protected against many of the creatures that would attack anyone else."
Falling quiet for a moment to take Ever's temperature, to listen to his heart and to shine a light briefly in his eyes, Isla jots down her findings before speaking once more. "Do you know how it might have happened, if you did get infected?"
