back and forth to calm the squall

It's been a couple of days, and Isla lives and learns and gets on with things. Stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on and all that twee bullshit. She has made a very rough go at an in-house infirmary in her living room; she can't house patients here and almost every piece of equipment she owns is nothing but ash and dust and rubble, but what she does have, she uses. The sofa is a treatment bed now, and the coffee table and several shelves house her poultices, herbs, supplies and other medicines. She has started a few new medical files too, for the patients who visit. But the work she'd been doing, and the text she'd borrowed from Sam in the Atheneum to try and expand the Grounds' medical knowledge? Gone. When the tap at the door comes, she's busy wiping down surfaces and opening windows to let the place air out from her last patient. It's dark inside the house and out - call Isla crazy, but lighting a lantern after her labour of love burned down isn't something she's keen to do. But as she opens the door and recognises the face outside, something in her softens. "Hello Varus," she murmurs. "Would you like to come in?" ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die