Morgan raised a quizzical eyebrow as Chulane asked for apple cider, though she supposed she could see the sense in it. She remembered the way Deimos had rejected her waterskin, how he had seemed scared of it in his hand even when he had asked for it. In that moment she was painfully glad for Chulane - for his knowledge, for his intelligence in working out so many solutions and ways to help the sick.
Letting Deimos sort out his own shoes (it was good to let him do as many things for himself as he could) she took a step back. It was clear he found it difficult sat up for so long, but he completed the task; Morgan couldn't help the small smile on her face, a kind of pride in him for the determination he held.
The fire in his palm was....concerning, to say the least. While in normal circumstances Morgan would not begrudge him his magic, here she worried he might get distracted and put his hand down, set the entire infirmary alight. "Well...I could get you some extra blankets and ask the nurses to put some more wood in the fire. Would that do instead?" The way she asked didn't really leave too much room for him to say no.
Letting Deimos sort out his own shoes (it was good to let him do as many things for himself as he could) she took a step back. It was clear he found it difficult sat up for so long, but he completed the task; Morgan couldn't help the small smile on her face, a kind of pride in him for the determination he held.
The fire in his palm was....concerning, to say the least. While in normal circumstances Morgan would not begrudge him his magic, here she worried he might get distracted and put his hand down, set the entire infirmary alight. "Well...I could get you some extra blankets and ask the nurses to put some more wood in the fire. Would that do instead?" The way she asked didn't really leave too much room for him to say no.
MORGAN
Snakes are biting at my heels
The worries that refuse to let us go
The worries that refuse to let us go
