Winter's Bite

Isla smiled brightly as the young midwife opened the door, nodding to her in greeting and stepping inside, glad to be out of the cold even though she couldn't exactly feel it any longer. "Good evening, Phoebe - it's good to see you again." They had bonded, somewhat, over the grievous injuries dealt to those trying to fight the Spire Demon, and it was admittedly nice to see the midwife in a situation that didn't call for immediate medical attention. Pebble blue eyes widened a fraction at the sight of the homey little clinic, a delighted smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was a far cry from the necessary but sterile environment of the infirmary, and she could see just why Phoebe had wanted a place to call her own for her practice. "This looks lovely," she said with honest admiration. "You must be a sanctuary for any labouring woman." Flashing her a grin, she turned and offered out the basket. "I heard you had just set up shop, so I thought I would bring by some things from the infirmary, in case you were short some tools." Isla the flesh is weak