Isla
"Some things you just have to ride out, I guess," Isla agrees with a gentle nod, sitting up as well and keeping her arm loosely threaded through his own, though she thinks the worst might have passed, at least, for the time being. Tilting her head back against the stone, the medic gazes up at the stars and frowns, wondering if Safrin spits at them when she sees the Hollowed Grounds from her cosmos.
"I'm glad to hear that," she murmurs. "That you're staying, I mean. It might be good to keep busy, and you've got friends here, whether or not you believe it." Smiling softly, Isla shifts to gaze up at him. "And for the record I can always use an extra pair of hands at the infirmary."
The teleporter has her interested, too, Isla tilting her head. "Frey seems a lot more inclined to help you two," she remarks. "I'm glad to hear it."
"I'm glad to hear that," she murmurs. "That you're staying, I mean. It might be good to keep busy, and you've got friends here, whether or not you believe it." Smiling softly, Isla shifts to gaze up at him. "And for the record I can always use an extra pair of hands at the infirmary."
The teleporter has her interested, too, Isla tilting her head. "Frey seems a lot more inclined to help you two," she remarks. "I'm glad to hear it."
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
