Phoenix Maplewood my heart is a tartarian gate

He didn't seem to get the joke - which was good, because Alya didn't really think it was a good idea to antagonize the natives. Not while she was reliant on their tribe, at least. And, really, she thought the whole healing business had gone rather well. She was relatively certain she'd given him the right stuff (after that initial mix-up, of course), and he'd been a good patient, thus far.

"I'm so glad," she said solemnly, looking up at him with manufactured timidity. As though she was intimidated by his masculinity or in need of his validation by way of praise. She was neither, but she did want his attention, like she wanted the attentions of most every young, fit male she came across. "I couldn't stand the thought of you suffering for being so brave. It sounds like Morningside is lucky to have you here."

Ugh. But Alya wanted to talk to him more, and she knew that just being herself would not win her many friends. Plus, subterfuge was her middle name. It was kind of being herself to... not ... be herself... That was her story, at least, and she was sticking to it.