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[Sofie Reynell]

It was early enough that the House of Healing – at least where Sofie was – was quiet; nearly abandoned, she might have said, except the House of Healing was never ‘abandoned’, especially when it came to patients. Chances were there was already a group of people sitting outside and looking for a healer’s help with minor scrapes and bruises and allergies, even though they could easily have used home remedies that would have been just as effective as what the healer was going to give them; Sofie shook her head and rolled her eyes. That was something that she hadn’t thought about until she’d become a Healer herself – the number of people who couldn’t tell the difference between an inconvenience, a little pain, and a true emergency was remarkable. She was glad that she wouldn’t have to deal with that until the afternoon; this morning all she had were follow-up appointments with patients that she’d treated or helped to treat, depending on the severity of their injuries. She was still young enough that she didn’t get any really big cases all to herself, and frankly she was rather glad for that. She learned more just by assisting at this point in her life. She didn’t particularly want to be in charge.

She had come downstairs a little earlier than usual and spread her things out over the table in one of the examining rooms. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to actually get any work done, but at least if she had it with her she could pretend she was being more productive than she actually was. She had all of her patient notes stacked neatly off to one side, at least, and everything was ordered; all she really had to do was bring things up to date, which meant that she probably couldn’t put her work off for much longer. While she took notes at every appointment, of course, she had to recheck them and, in some cases, expand a little on them later, and then make a copy so that she wasn’t the only one with records of her patients. It was a lot of easy, dull work; definitely the worst part of the job. The records were necessary, however, in a place as large as the House of Healing; she supposed that she would have had to keep records in a small village’s temple, too, but at least then it would only have been one copy.

Half-heartedly, Sofie pulled back the room’s curtains and began to go through the first of the reports, starting at the top of the pile. The examining room was on the first floor of the House of Healing, facing the herb gardens, but the glass in the windows – and there was glass – was so distorted that it was impossible to see through clearly anyway, so she wasn’t worried about privacy. In any case, the curtains could always be shut if her patients requested it; even though Sofie didn’t like being outside, natural light was a nice change every once and a while.

Her first patient of the morning was a Blue who’d been under the care of healers for a long while now; Sofie would hardly have gone so far as to say she knew Royce well, but she was familiar with him. How could she not have been? Though his recovery had not been without its challenges, he was at least able to walk and talk and live like a mostly normal person again; she knew better than to pity the boy, even if that was her first instinct. She was more concerned about his weight, and though she was no mindHealer (far from it), how well he was holding up. Classes were beginning soon, or had already begun, and while she wasn’t sure how much time he was going to spend up and about, it had to be hard on him both facing students who didn’t know what had happened and simply the physical and mental strain of going out into the world every day. She knew that she probably was assuming, somewhat, but she wasn’t going to make any snap judgements about Royce either; she’d just ask.

The door to the examining room was partially ajar, but with her back sitting to it Sofie was relying mostly on her hearing to know if Royce had arrived or not – either he would come straight to the examining room, or one of the healer trainees helping in the House of Healing would come and find her to let her know that he was there. She almost hoped that he would show up early, if only so that she wouldn’t have to go through so many reports before he got there.

[Royce Jacarto]

Morning was a difficult time for Royce, mostly because it was when he awoke after sleeping in more or less one position for eight or nine hours. At first he'd been unable to move at all, but little by little he'd loosened up, so now when he woke he immediately started on the exercises that warmed his scar tissue and allowed it to stretch. Bending and unbending his knees, elbows. Flexing his shoulders front and back, opening his mouth wide in fake yawns. In five minutes the scars had loosened enough for him to get out of bed, holding onto the rail lining the upper part of his bedstead to slide into the carry chair beside it. The chair's wheels were locked and the seat and back padded with very comfortable cushions Illius had brought that were stuffed with lamb's wool. Royce did more stretching exercises while he sat, bending forwards and backwards to loosen his back, and rubbing his stumps with his good hand. They didn't need stretching, and in fact they were the places Royce wanted to go stiff, but they itched in the mornings.

Doffing his sleep shirt, he rubbed himself with the salve made with beeswax, rendered fat, and topical herbs that would continue to keep his scar tissue supple and help keep infections at bay. On went the close-fitting sleeves over his stumps that cushioned the prosthetics, and then Royce buckled on his arm, slipping the stump into the forearm first and working his way up, till the hand itself assisted in holding the modified vest in place while his good hand buckled it firm. His stump leg simply rested in a large cup at the top of the leather cuff that buckled much like his arm but included a knee joint that could be released to let the wooden leg rest on the floor in a natural position when Royce sat, and was held rigid the rest of the time when he was up.

Dressing went quickly after that, Blue trews, tunic, white shirt, socks, a knit scarf and the glove that went over his hand. He felt the cold more acutely (and the heat as well), and wore his heavier weight uniform even though it was just September. The thicker material was reassuring. Pulling up his hood, he tucked his keys in his pocket, locked his door, and headed towards the House of Healing. He'd be early for his appointment, but didn't mind waiting. The calm helped still the cacophony of old memories, of how he used to do things, of how easy this was, how swiftly he did that, of his best friend gone and her mother's sobbed apology that seeing him hurt too much.

Limping, his familiar step-thump treading the halls of the House, he found the room and gently knocked on the doorframe. His husky voice announced himself: "It's Royce, Healer."

[Sofie Reynell]

Sofie didn’t jump at the sound of the knock at the door behind her, and was already halfway twisted around on her chair when Royce said, "It's Royce, Healer." She gave him a smile and got to her feet, twisting the chair that she had been sitting on around so she could sit back down facing the door. She didn’t sit straight away, but instead leaned back over the table to close up her files. She wasn’t worried about Royce seeing anything that he shouldn’t have, but – still, it didn’t hurt to protect her patient’s privacy.

Every time she saw Royce, Sofie felt as though she should have been taken aback, and while she had been at first, she had – well, not gotten used to it, but gotten used to seeing people who were scarred and not, at first glance, even normal looking. However, she couldn’t blame him for wearing a hood, given that the majority of people at the palace weren’t Healers and used to seeing all of the surface strangeness. She wondered if he had problems at the Collegium with other students bothering him about his appearance, or if the majority of them were either too polite or, more likely, too frightened to try and say anything, but then decided that that wasn’t really going to be any of her business unless he brought it up. Bullying was always a problem at the Collegium thanks to the noble Blues, but usually the Artificers were too involved in their studies to even really notice, and when they did notice they never had seemed to care.

“Good morning,” she said as she straightened back up again. She had pulled the room’s second chair out from its corner between the examining table and the wall when she had gotten to the examining room earlier, to give her patients the choice between the examining table and something a little easier to sit on, and she gestured at it with one hand. “Take a seat,” she continued. She had the feeling that Royce was probably a little early, but since she had no way of telling the time in the examining rooms she wasn’t positive. She wasn’t going to complain about it, either, because three reports in she had already begun to wish that she had something else to do so she could do those later. It wasn’t that Sofie didn’t like doing her work, but she didn’t like having to do it right away.

Sofie settled herself back down on her chair as she waited for Royce to make himself comfortable, crossing her legs and resting his file on her knees. She didn’t bother to open it, since she’d already reviewed it, but it always felt comforting to have it there anyway. Sofie was confident in her skills as a healer, but still, it made her feel better to have her little security-blanket-items. Once Royce seemed ready she asked, “How are you this morning?”

[Royce Jacarto]

Royce hung back as she, Healer Sofie, finished up her paperwork and tidied up. He never knew who to expect when he came for appointments, but was glad it was her. Not because he had feelings for her, but because he was comfortable with her. She'd been working with him for some time and was familiar with his injuries, so there was no potentially embarrassing recounting of... things. The Healers who had Healed and still checked up on his private areas had all been males even though during his first weeks gods knew enough females had seen him nude. It was the difference between highly uncomfortable situations and just regular uncomfortable ones, but the Healers had all been very accommodating. Now, if he needed to talk of those areas, he requested a male Healer or was told one wished to speak with him.

Healer Sofie would know those things, so Royce settled into the proffered chair with a sigh once all her paper shuffling was done. "Good morning," he replied, voice only a little louder than a hoarse whisper. Royce pushed back his hood and unraveled his scarf enough so that the loops drooped from the soft wall they made around his face to hang over his chest. "I'm a bit early."

“How are you this morning?”

Royce thought it over seriously, closing his eyes and moving his arms and legs tiny bits for twinges or stiffness. Nothing was overly sore or aching, so he went with what he'd noticed this morning. "The stumps are a little sensitive. Hurts to put weight on the leg more than usual. Throat's been scratchy. Haven't talked more than usual, so I don't know if it's a cold or just... under or overuse."

As he spoke, Royce took off his Blue robes so Healer Sofie could feel his arms and legs or help him remove his clothes so she could see his 'skin'. Royce had gone against policy to have his Blues altered as many Blues did, but unlike them his alterations had been allowed and were not immediately taken out. He was so skinny that the size of uniform that fit him in height was hopelessly loose, ballooning over his sickly frame like he was a toddler playing in a grown brother's clothes. The tailored clothes emphasized rather than normalized his skinniness, and Royce was rather embarrassed by it. The only thing he was glad of was that the better fit was warmer. His expression was apologetic when he spoke next. "I... have been eating. But not hungry. I try to eat too much, or richer food, and it all comes up."

[Sofie Reynell]

Sofie remained silent while Royce thought her question over, glad that he wasn’t the type of patient just to answer ‘alright’ in the hopes that their healer would let them go sooner. Heralds were terrible for that and while she appreciated that they wanted to get back to their work as quickly as possible, the worst of her patients didn’t seem to understand that the more they pushed themselves, the longer their recovery would take. Royce was making her job easier by being honest.

"The stumps are a little sensitive. Hurts to put weight on the leg more than usual. Throat's been scratchy. Haven't talked more than usual, so I don't know if it's a cold or just... under or overuse." Sofie frowned. Since the last thing that Royce needed at this point was to get sick, given that he was likely only just getting settled back into life, he probably was going to get sick – that was the way that things always seemed to happen. The opposite of what should rightfully have happened was what was obviously always going to happen. She was just about to check if Royce was beginning to get congested when Royce added, "I... have been eating. But not hungry. I try to eat too much, or richer food, and it all comes up."

“How often do you try to eat?” Sofie asked. “Only at mealtimes, or have you tried to eat smaller portions several times a day?” She knew better than to tell him that it was important to eat – even if he hadn’t really realized that before his accident, he would certainly have known it by this point given how many Healers had likely been lecturing him day in and day out. When there were so many different people working with the same patient, sometimes (lots of times) things got said more than once, but it was better to have things repeated rather than everyone assume someone else had said it and it never get said.

She returned back to her first question after a moment. “I’ll check your leg before you leave,” she said, “Just to be sure that everything is alright – it could be ordinary soreness, and just a bad day, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. I’m just going to take a look, now, to see if I can tell if things are getting congested at this point or not.” She wasn’t exactly asking, since she was going to check one way or the other, but it never hurt to be polite. Sofie got to her feet and set Royce’s papers down on the seat of her chair so she didn’t have to make Royce get off. She would try, using her gift, to see if she could see anything amiss without making Royce undress completely; she kept her fingers crossed that she wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

[Royce Jacarto]

“How often do you try to eat? Only at mealtimes, or have you tried to eat smaller portions several times a day?”

"Always at mealtimes," he replied. Ever since the accident, for the first time in his life Royce had been on time for meals at the Collegium. At home he sent for trays from the kitchen. Neither of his parents urged him to show up for meals at the table and Illius respected his wishes but often asked to see him during dinner. By now the staff Royce saw the most was used to his appearance and more, they had always remembered him as kind and considerate rather than brusque and demeaning. He had made clear that he only wanted servants who wanted to serve a disfigured youngest son and near all of the ones who'd seen to him since birth had remained. Only at dinners at home did he see servants so well off in their positions that they could snub him, and he avoided them as much as they tried to avoid him. But if Illius was busy and wished to speak to him and could only see him at dinner, Royce complied. Neither parent attended any meal Royce took in the hall, sending servants with messages of mysterious aliments or sudden visits elsewhere.

"Sometimes I send a page to the kitchens in the afternoons, or visit myself to stretch my legs." Royce frowned. "Cooking can be... difficult. I can slice bread, but have not had much luck with cheese. Taking down large jars that need... two hands, is also difficult."

Royce was embarrassed, not about his disability, but about how he hadn't found a way to circumvent it yet. And while his prosthetic hand could hold, it could not grasp, could not pick something up. Opening jars was a problem too, if they were shut tightly. His left could unscrew or pull, but that left his right arm's crook to act as a holder because his hand could not squeeze or apply instantly adjustable pressure. Since he wasn't naturally left-handed, it was an awkward situation that had had him replacing more than one jar of preserves or pickled vegetable. It was a blow to his pride that he couldn't make a simple sandwich.

It could be that Royce had a touch of stomach flu. It was fall and his immune system was compromised, and now with an influx of students back to the Collegiums there were already runny noses and sore throats going around.

“I’ll check your leg before you leave. Just to be sure that everything is alright – it could be ordinary soreness, and just a bad day, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. I’m just going to take a look, now, to see if I can tell if things are getting congested at this point or not.”

Sitting up as straight as he could, Royce sat still, closing his eyes, though one was under a black patch and was closed most of the time anyway. The Healing Gift would pick up no congestion, but some redness in the back of his throat and an unbalanced stomach that was too acidic. Food that Royce vomited was coating his throat with that acid, causing the soreness. There was exhaustion there too, and general stress to his systems.

[Sofie Reynell]

"Always at mealtimes," Royce answered and Sofie nodded. "Sometimes I send a page to the kitchens in the afternoons [...] Taking down large jars that need... two hands, is also difficult." Sofie paused a moment to think, since she knew that it was unreasonable to advise Royce to try switching to multiple smaller meals without also suggesting some practical ways of actually doing so. It was quite possible that he wasn’t comfortable asking the kitchen staff to prepare things that he couldn’t make for himself several times a day rather than only at mealtimes, and that even if he was comfortable it wasn’t necessarily the best idea. He needed the independence, for starters, and that wasn’t going to happen if she suggested that he start getting help for things as simple as preparing a meal.

“I would like you to try eating smaller portions more frequently,” she said after a moment. “At least since your body seems to be rejecting too much food at once, and it’s not going to do you any good if you can’t keep it down. Have you been eating enough fruits and vegetables?” Cheese and bread was all and well, of course, and quite filling, but he still needed the nutrients that vegetables, at the very least, would provide. Besides, they might make for some small meals or snacks that were easier to prepare. During winter, she knew that she’d have to come up with some sort of alternative, but there was the chance that they’d work for now.

Sofie got to her feet and squinted slightly, using her Gift to examine first Royce’s chest, and then she looked for anything amiss in the rest of his body. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least not with his chest, and Sofie breathed a small sigh of relief. The upset stomach was a little worrisome, though, but she wasn’t sure if it was why Royce couldn’t keep anything down or if it was the result.

“Well, it’s not a cold,” she said when she stepped back. She had half a mind to tell him to get more rest, but as with the phrase ‘it’s important to make sure you eat’ she was certain that Royce had heard that he needed to get his rest more times than he cared to remember. Instead she decided to focus on his stomach problems, since those would hopefully be an easier fix, and help him to keep his food down so he could begin to regain some of his strength. “Which is a good thing. It looks like you’re having some stomach troubles – I suppose that not keeping anything down is sign enough of that, though. Do you drink a lot of teas, or milk?” Milk might be too rich, she supposed, but if possible she’d suggest that he start drinking mint tea, particularly if he could feel his stomach getting a little upset. Both would help to reduce the amount of acid there, though, which would hopefully stop things from coming back up.

[Royce Jacarto]

“I would like you to try eating smaller portions more frequently. At least since your body seems to be rejecting too much food at once, and it’s not going to do you any good if you can’t keep it down. Have you been eating enough fruits and vegetables?”

"Oh yes," he said, nodding. "Lady Florrie sends a jar of vegetable soup every time Illius comes to Council." Which was almost every day save the weekends, and then Illius sometimes came anyway to confer with Royce on issues of running the house or politics. "And I eat fruit in the morning with breakfast."

For breakfast Royce often had toasted bread with jam and/or oatmeal with raisins and nuts poured over with cream. Lunch was whatever the Collegium was serving, afternoon snack was the soup, and dinner was whatever was in the dining area again, except that by that time Royce only ate what was easiest to manage with one hand. After a long day of small frustrations (or an even longer day of big ones), there was only so much he could bear at the end. While he could decently write and figure with his left hand, some facet of holding tableware still eluded him.

"...It looks like you’re having some stomach troubles – I suppose that not keeping anything down is sign enough of that, though. Do you drink a lot of teas, or milk?"

"Peppermint tea in the morning, sometimes, when I'm very tired. I've heard peppermint wakes you up, both the smell and taste. Milk..." Normally Royce drank water or coffee with lunch and dinner and frankly couldn't remember the last time he'd had milk. "I have cream on my oatmeal in the morning," he said finally. "I haven't had milk in a long time. Should I be drinking it?"

Remembering a question he'd had earlier, he asked, "By the way, can you think of anything I can wear besides what I am now to keep warm? I'm freezing already and it's only September."

[Sofie Reynell]

"Oh yes. Lady Florrie sends a jar of vegetable soup every time Illius comes to Council. And I eat fruit in the morning with breakfast."

“Good,” Sofie said with a nod. “I was going to suggest eating some raw vegetables or fruit, if making an entire meal is going to take too much time – they’re more like snacks, really, but if you aren’t keeping anything down and trying to eat smaller portions work, at least then you’re getting some of the nutrients you need.” She would still have to think of something better during winter, because raw winter vegetables didn’t make for particularly good eating, but it was something that would work for now. Dried fruit might work for a snack as well, she supposed, but that was awfully sweet. Hopefully by winter rolled around Royce would be having better luck keeping everything down.

Of course, there was also the problem that Royce couldn’t live solely on fruit and vegetables alone, and he’d need to have something else to eat throughout the day as well. If he could manage bread, that would be something to consider, but Sofie was trying to think of as many small, easy to prepare meals as possible. She knew that she would have grown sick of eating the same thing every day, day in and day out, but now that she was trying to think of food with more variety she was at a loss.

"Peppermint tea in the morning, sometimes, when I'm very tired. I've heard peppermint wakes you up, both the smell and taste. Milk... I haven't had milk in a long time. Should I be drinking it?"

“If you can keep it down, yes,” Sofie said with a nod. “It’s good for you, though why I’m really asking is also because of how it should react with your stomach – milk and mint tea should help to balance out the acidity, a least a little. Obviously, have both in moderation but at this point, I’m not worried about you overeating.” And she wasn’t; even if Royce had been having no troubles eating, he was still very underweight. He needed to start putting on weight, and that wasn’t going to happen by itself.

At Royce’s other question, Sofie again had to pause to think for half a moment. It was frustrating, because it seemed to Sofie that a large number of problems were tied into Royce’s upset stomach – assuming, of course, that was the reason he was vomiting his food and there wasn’t another underlying problem that she had missed. He would have been warmer with that protective layer of body fat that he was missing, but since that wasn’t there the point was moot.

She shoved her brief annoyance aside and said, “Perhaps, underneath your uniform, another shirt? Tighter, though, or cut closer to your body and made of wool. More layers will always help, of course, and if it’s tighter your body shouldn’t have to heat so much empty air between your body and your clothes.” She was playing off of the same principle of wearing long pants whilst on the road – something she had no experience with, but had heard about from a Herald who’d been brought back in the middle of her circuit on the northern border. She’d worn many layers, the bottommost layer (after her underclothes) being a tight pair of trews and an undershirt that was thicker than the conventional garment. On top of that had gone two, sometimes three more layers, and it was almost too bulky to be practical in Sofie’s opinion, but – well, the Herald hadn’t been suffering from frostbite or hypothermia, so something must have worked. She paused and then added, more musing than anything else, “Or perhaps a tightly knit fabric, that might stop the heat from escaping better than the wool...” She wasn’t sure, though, and knew that she’d probably have to ask someone else before actually advising that to Royce.

[Royce Jacarto]

“Good. I was going to suggest eating some raw vegetables or fruit, if making an entire meal is going to take too much time – they’re more like snacks, really, but if you aren’t keeping anything down and trying to eat smaller portions work, at least then you’re getting some of the nutrients you need.”

While the Healer was no doubt thinking variety, Royce was more interested in method of preparation. He had essentially one hand to do things with, although his false right could be set to hold something quite firmly. The problem was that each finger had to be adjusted individually around the object, and if the object slipped, as washed vegetables and fruit tended to do, he had to start over and adjust again. Carrots and apples were easy, as were berries, and Royce often ate cucumbers by holding them in his left hand and biting off what he wanted. Florrie's vegetable soup was a much better vehicle for getting veggies; it was thick with bite-sized potatoes, carrots, peppers, beets, turnips, peas, and whatever else was available, and it warmed him. Royce didn't bother to say since his family was rich they'd have better access to less in season foods during the winter, eventually Healer Sofie would figure it out. He certainly wasn't going to starve. "I'll ask Lady Florrie for bigger jars of soup."

Food was an issue, and would be for the rest of his life, Royce knew. He'd been stockpiling in his office and room. A mix of nuts and dried fruit, strips of soft jerky, large cannisters of his favorite tea blends. Attempts to make eating less of a chore and more accessible. He even had three glass jars of candy. It kept his throat from drying up till he coughed, and the pretty colors cheered him. It was something to give his nephews and niece when they visited too. Osgood would start at the Collegiums as a Blue soon. Royce figured the Dean was dreading another Jacarto, but with Ozzie she had little to fear.

“...Obviously, have both in moderation but at this point, I’m not worried about you overeating.”

He smiled. "No. But it might be nice, wouldn't it?" He silently added milk to his food list. Royce didn't even take it with his tea and coffee.

"I'll take it with my lunch," he decided.

Listening to the Healer talk about warmer clothing, Royce nodded. "I've heard of knit underthings. I've never seen them but maybe I could order some." He smiled down at himself. "I might have to let out the clothes then."

Since the visit was nearing the end, he leaned forward slightly to lift up his right trews leg. It exposed his wooden prosthesis and the stump of leg where it joined at the knee. Royce still wore a long sock over his fake leg, to match his real one, and so his boot would fit correctly. That, and having the leg be protected from the elements kept his stump from getting cold. The area around the bottom was tender, not quite bruised, but definitely swollen.

[Sofie Reynell]

"I'll ask Lady Florrie for bigger jars of soup."

Sofie nodded slightly. “Alright,” she said. She was still worried that he’d end up getting himself into a rut, to the point where didn’t want to eat because he was sick of the same old thing – but then again, Royce was also more than old enough to realize if he needed to make some changes. Besides, he was a Blue, and not the sort that her sister and cousins had turned out to be. Chances are he would end up finding some sort of solution to his food problems, just because it was a problem and that was what Blues did. Then again, perhaps she was placing too much on Royce... well, she’d think about it, and talk to Royce about food ideas the next time that she saw him. She made a brief note to herself to do that as she continued speaking.

"No. But it might be nice, wouldn't it? I'll take it with my lunch,"

“Perfect,” Sofie said. “If you don’t feel like milk, and you feel that your stomach’s a little off, try having some mint tea instead, since it should help a little, too.” She made another note in her copy of Royce’s file in order to remind herself to check his stomach the next time that she saw him. If it was still unbalanced and overly acidic, then she would need to find something a little stronger than milk and tea.

While Royce pulled his clothing up to show her his stump, Sofie bumped forward on her chair so she was better able to see what was going on. His leg was definitely swollen, which would explain why it was sore. She wasn’t surprised, however; a person wasn’t really meant to put their weight on their leg the way that Royce had to, now. She sat back after a moment and sighed. “I think that part of the problem is that the skin at the bottom of your stump, or the bone underneath, where it rubs against the prosthetic, isn’t callused enough to really stand up to the pressure it’s under. I think that that’s something that’ll be cured with time, in part, but until then... Is it possible to fit more padding in there?” She didn’t think so; it looked like it was a good, tight fit, and changing things around at this point was less than ideal – things were just starting to get settled.

[Royce Jacarto]

“If you don’t feel like milk, and you feel that your stomach’s a little off, try having some mint tea instead, since it should help a little, too.”

"Alright." He watched her make notes in his file for a second, and then started pulling back his clothes to let her inspect his stump. The amount of swelling startled him, but upon thought, didn't surprise him all that much. Royce was in effect walking on one leg and one knee, and anyone who'd ever spent a lot of time kneeling would know how hard it was on the legs.

“I think that part of the problem is that the skin at the bottom of your stump, or the bone underneath, where it rubs against the prosthetic, isn’t callused enough to really stand up to the pressure it’s under. I think that that’s something that’ll be cured with time, in part, but until then... Is it possible to fit more padding in there?”

Royce thought about it. That was a difficult part of making a prosthetic, padding versus fit. The more padding, the more comfortable it was to wear, but in the longrun it kept the stump from being used to everyday shocks and usage and was not a very good fit. If he went for a good fit, it made his stump tougher faster and molded the leather in the prosthetic's cup and sleeve much quicker, but it was less comfortable at first. He'd gone in for comfort in the long term to get the fake leg's stump attachment snug to his leg end faster.

"I could add more, yes," he said slowly. And there was no reason he could not. A little extra padding, a few more rags wrapped about his stump, wouldn't hurt, not now. The cup was molded nicely and would stand up to a few more bits of cloth. Nodding, he even had lengths of cloth left from when his stumps first came out of their bandages. "I'll go do that right now."

Putting himself to rights, he watched as the Healer made more notes. Finished, he stood and smiled at her, pulling up his hood. "Thank you for the checkup, Healer Sofie. It was lovely to see you. Have a good day."

[FIN]