Lion Head Mesa Nefer

In quiet agreement she will dip her head.

Tavina busies herself, bent again over her work. The medic does not seem the type of woman who rests frequently. Eset would also not want Tavina to strain herself and longs to voice this-  but it is not within her rank to counter, nor ask the Doctor for her express company. Instead, she will settle back onto the bed, content enough to watch and listen in silence.

This craft is an art.

Tavina has the power to work changes upon the world from plants that grow common on the earth. It’s an ability to draw out the properties to heal- maybe those to unheal, too. Such wickedness is pushed swiftly away.

“How do you fare in Akashingo, Doctor?” She asks after a long stretch of silence. It’s a risk to broach such a subject though she feels some level of trust now with the medic, even if it is naive to.