it happened quiet

Isla take your medicine "Well, even if it is, we'll deal with it," Isla says with the sort of ease that made her the Overseer of the Grounds as well as a medic. She doesn't shine the light in Maea's eyes for long, gleaning all the necessary information at a glance and slipping it back into her pocket. Listening to her sister's story, this time Isla is engaging her optical upgrade, scanning her for any broken bones or flares of heat or anything else that might point to something beyond the injury in her arm. "You lived," she says softly, wheeling a stool over to sit down opposite Maea. "And that is never something to feel guilty about. You're a survivor." Inhaling deeply and letting it out again (another one using it as a coping mechanism), she holds out her hands, silently asking if she might examine Maea's forearm. "At times like these, I always forget how close to life or death we are. A Fae, too... I assumed the Greatwood had made its intentions clear. What happened to her body?" she asks.