Man-Made Object

Nate shudders and fidgets and explains himself, and it's like Isla is made of marble as she listens to his responses. But by degrees she seems to come alive again, offering him a kind smile and nodding gently. "I understand," she says, and she means it. "Alright, then. Here, let's take a proper look at you," she suggests, drawing up a stool to perch upon, helping to guide his hand with the mirror so they can examine the mechanisms and biomechanics that make up his system. Isla walks them through her assumptions and investigations, because of course she can only offer conjecture at present; where his lungs are, what their function is now that they don't need to breathe; where the heart fits and why there is no heartbeat; the other organs and what they have been transformed to do. "It's all very efficient, isn't it?" she murmurs eventually. "Do you think you found the answers you were looking for?" Not that she knows what questions he was asking. Isla only has more questions, but she doesn't mention that. "If not, I can go further. Just let me know what you want to do." ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die