Man-Made Object

"Yes. It seems you approached just the right person for such a thing. How fortuitous." Isla smiles back at him, her eyes closing as their foreheads touch, as the words go unspoken between them. Needing no further encouragement, her fingers squeeze against Nate's and she leads them into the small operating room tucked away in the back of the infirmary. It's rarely used these days, with all the Ascended around, but Isla keeps it sterile and clean. A surgeon at heart, she uses the room for practice, mostly. (And autopsies, once upon a time). Tilting her head to hear that he had lost his eye but is getting it back, understanding dawns on her face suddenly. "Ah, the Voice?" she guesses. "Say no more. I'm glad, though - I quite liked your grey eye." Reaching out, she accepts his shirt and jacket to fold them neatly and place them on a countertop behind her, gesturing to the operating table. His question might have been awkward for some, but for two doctors? Isla gives it some honest consideration. "I suppose it depends how lengthy the incision," she says slowly. "...I think yes, though. It would be a hassle to have to get them off in the middle of surgery, right?" ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die