my free time and your hands

ISLA evil is a point of view "I would. I don't know how she succeeded in doing this, but..." To say that it's remarkable is an understatement, and Isla glances fondly over her shoulder to where loved ones are reuniting, to where the dead walk freely once again. If that wasn't the work of a goddess, she didn't know what was. "I'll be sure to thank her as soon as I get the chance. You can come with me, if you like?" Ah, but then they are onto not-baby landsharks, and Isla scoffs out a laugh and shrugs her shoulders beneath the Launceleyn's long an dexterous fingers. "I'm not one to judge, I'm a doctor," she says airily. "Besides, it is cold out here, or so I'm led to believe." Not that they feel it or remotely react to it. Isla glances around at the crowds again, as if trying to find someone she might recognise. Anyone, truly. But even if there are those she might have met briefly, she's too out of it to know them right now. Edy brings her back, the medic gazing up at her and smirking. "I could use two hands, if you've got them to spare."