He led her down some stairs and through a maze of rooms before opening the door to a long wooden room with white, bare beds in it. Various cabinets were stationed along the walls, but it was obviously a room dedicated for one purpose. It was empty for the time being and he gestured to a bed. “There. Lie on your stomach and I’ll see what I can do.”
He pulled out a few vials and called out to her as he worked. “Can you lift the fabric again, please?”
He came over to her and began to move away the bandages gently. “So, Rohesia, tell me what you think you’d be good at on the ship.”
His hands moved quickly over her back and he paused for a moment. "This is an easy fix, Avice," he said gently, cleaning the wounds. "Seriously. It's nothing we haven't seen before. You're going to be safe here."
He hesitated, working quickly on her cuts. "It's safe from whatever you're running from," he replied eventually. "There's a different kind of danger here, but, I mean... look around. Everyone on this ship is running from something. All of them, for one reason or another, are content with their place here."
He was quiet for a moment before shrugging casually, obviously trying to act unphased. “You’re asking some pretty big questions, Rohesia. Now, don’t look. I’m going to be doing some stitches and I don’t want you throwing up everywhere. That seems to be a typical response.”
He finished the stitches a few minutes later, cleaning them one last time before applying fresh bandages. “There we go.”
