[A pause. He doesn't smile, but there is some flickering trace of humor there in his face anyway. Expecting anyone to know how to do more than stitching gashes and packing punctures seems unbelievably optimistic.]
[A low murmur of assent; another note is added to the list.]
Well, this gets us started. If there isn't one already, I'd be interested in maintaining a list of standard kits - something for warm and cold weather, particularly now as we make our way to winter. But that technically lies outside my purview, so take it all with a grain of salt.
[He's been making notes as he spoke, but looks up at her now.]
It's not something that would be too terribly difficult to create. There may even be a chance to make something more suitable for serious injuries, beyond what could be carried here. Not every party ventures with a surgeon or a healer.
[ Surgeon first, healer second; she is growing more amiable to magical healing but she will never be as tolerant as she could be.
Well enough, despite the most recent of their dramas. [ Her wedding and their kidnapping, of course, but she doesn't expect a great discussion about that matter.
[He acknowledges it with a small hum, a thoughtful look passing over his face. For a very small moment, Flint studies her - clearly on the verge of proposing something -, and then he must dismiss whatever thought plagues him.]
I look forward to the list for the poultice. If there is anything else that occurs to you, feel free to append it.
[And that is that. With a twitch of his fingers, he motions her toward the door.
There is no calling her back. No instance where she arrives at the door and he says something to briefly hold her there. Oh, as a last favor Lady Rutyer, he might say but doesn't. Would you mind saying nothing of this conversation to your husband?
It would mean more were she to do it all on her own without being prompted.]
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An iron for cauterizing, you mean?
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Everyone in forces is expected to carry a knife which should do for most wounds, but I'll see what can be ordered for the rest.
If there is nothing beyond that, then what do you make of our quantities? Do we need two rolls of bandages, or can one be made to do?
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[ Reaching out, she trails her fingers against the bandage, thoughtful. ]
One should be enough, I imagine, for immediate medical attention. That should make things easier.
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Well, this gets us started. If there isn't one already, I'd be interested in maintaining a list of standard kits - something for warm and cold weather, particularly now as we make our way to winter. But that technically lies outside my purview, so take it all with a grain of salt.
[He's been making notes as he spoke, but looks up at her now.]
You're Nevarran, are you not?
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[ Surgeon first, healer second; she is growing more amiable to magical healing but she will never be as tolerant as she could be.
There's good reason. ]
Yes, lately of Nevarra City.
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I don't suppose they might be a reliable source of news from the city.
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The question, though, makes her sigh. ]
My brother might.
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I look forward to the list for the poultice. If there is anything else that occurs to you, feel free to append it.
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Of course. I would be more than glad to.
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[It's a joke - bone dry and self-effacing humor, but humor nonetheless.]
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[ Her lips twitch, just a little, and she gives him a proper curtsey. ]
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[And that is that. With a twitch of his fingers, he motions her toward the door.
There is no calling her back. No instance where she arrives at the door and he says something to briefly hold her there. Oh, as a last favor Lady Rutyer, he might say but doesn't. Would you mind saying nothing of this conversation to your husband?
It would mean more were she to do it all on her own without being prompted.]