Isla
"Oh, I'm not a vet. I would just cut off the talons until they became toes again." Isla grins to Remi just as sunnily, waiting for him to peel off his clothes (some of them anyway) and flop onto the bed before she approaches again. Armed this time with bandages, disinfectant and an array of other fun tools, she sits down by Remi's feet, shooting him a glare that dares him not to keep his toes where they ought to be. Particularly the broken one.
"I'll not bother to warn you when it hurts, since you've been walking around with this stuff for goodness knows how long." Isla sighs to him, like she's the long suffering mother to his petulant child, and gets to work. "And I do like scars. I like very neat scars that have clearly been sutured with skill," she informs Remi haughtily, flashing him a mischievous smile. "How is it, being back in the Grounds? Weird?"
"I'll not bother to warn you when it hurts, since you've been walking around with this stuff for goodness knows how long." Isla sighs to him, like she's the long suffering mother to his petulant child, and gets to work. "And I do like scars. I like very neat scars that have clearly been sutured with skill," she informs Remi haughtily, flashing him a mischievous smile. "How is it, being back in the Grounds? Weird?"
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
